


The Winter

by Rhapsody_Bohemia



Category: Glass (2019), Split (2016), Unbreakable (2000)
Genre: Because everyone hates the Glass ending here is a better one, F/M, Slow Burn, Spoilers, alternative ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-10-12 03:55:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 23
Words: 68,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17460164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhapsody_Bohemia/pseuds/Rhapsody_Bohemia
Summary: SPOILERS FOR GLASS (2019).Casey has the courage to take the unexpected road. After helping the Beast escape Dr Staple, Casey and Kevin try to stay one step ahead of the mysterious society intent on taking them down. Can they overcome their enemies, as well as their inner-demons?Alternative ending to Glass (2019) that we all deserve.





	1. A Different Path

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS FOR GLASS (2019)
> 
> I'm sure that I wasn't the only one who felt that Kevin deserved a more fitting fate. And here's Casey, ready to give him one.

Casey watched on in horror as the Horde pummeled Mr. Glass, unable to escape the horrible sound of his bones shattering as he hit the ground. She held Joseph Dunn back as he tried to interfere in the fight between two god-like figures, The Beast and The Overseer, and shared his relief when they both emerged from the tank alive.

Joseph rushed to his father’s side, trying to push away all of the SWAT team, who had their guns trained on the older man, still lying in a deluge of water, coughing and writhing like it was a vat of acid.

But Casey only had eyes for the Beast, feeling a stab of fear as she saw his chest heaving with anger, taking note of the scars from her shotgun pellets.

She had thought for some time that something was seriously wrong with the whole situation. Dr Ellie Staple was all too clever, too manipulative, for everything to be as it seemed. Casey was used to the pitying looks, used to being called the victim, but there was something else about Dr Staple that gave her pause. And after comparing notes with Dunn’s son and Mr. Glass’s dear mother, she felt that they had all been lied to.

She came to the conclusion that the Beast was in danger.

She had a choice: talk Kevin or one of the other alters into the Light, just as Dr Staple had begged her, and risk the entire Horde’s safety, or… let the Beast try to escape.

Both those options were terrifying, but she knew that she was the only one who could avoid any more bloodshed. Whichever choice she made.

Casey approached and laid her hands on the Beast’s forearm, feeling him shudder under her hands, his skin feverish to the touch.

“No,” he growled, twitching against her gentle grasp. She wasn’t deterred, and she wrapped her arms around his broad torso, laying her chin on his shoulder.

“Rejoice,” she whispered, feeling him calm against her. “Rejoice, for you will show the world that you are worthy.”

His tension eased. “Casey… the broken.”

“I need you to listen to me, now. I need you to trust me.”

He growled again, the same anguished sound that he’d made when Mr. Glass had revealed his part in Kevin’s father’s death.

“I will never betray you,” she promised. “Not like that. We’re here to protect Kevin.”

He shuddered at the mention of the original, but kept the Light.

She could hear the distant shouts of the SWAT team, preparing to advance. She held the Beast tighter, and as his arms grasped her waist, her panicked mind flashed to Dr Fletcher’s broken body. But she had to trust him, trust that he would not hurt someone he had deemed worthy.

“They want to put you back in a cage. They want to deny who you really are. And they want me to help, but… I can’t.”

She brushed her lips against the shell of his ear, smelling his familiar scent, and whispered, “You need to run.”

“Run, find a safe place, then come and find me.”

He snarled. “The Beast… does not… run.”

“Either you run, or I ask Hedwig to come to the Light, and they’ll kill him,” she said sharply, drawing back to look into his eyes. They were shockingly black, animal-like, and for a moment she could see him looking through the bars of her cage, intent on massacring her like he had to Claire and Marcia.

For a moment, she thought that he wouldn’t believe her threat, but he finally nodded, just a little bit, and looked away.

Interesting… in breaking eye contact like that, he signaled that he was submissive to her. She felt a thrill at the thought that she could control the Beast, but pushed it away. She didn’t deserve to control him, or any of them. She had never wanted to be in charge.

Suddenly, shockingly, he licked up the side of her face, before breaking away from her embrace, straining like her arms had been made of steel, then free from her grasp.

“Fire!” Casey heard someone shout, and she let her knees buckle, hitting the ground hard, as the whistle of bullets flew above her head.

The Beast had already bounded away, behind the rows of trees from the Facility, shrugging off the bullets like they were stinging bees.

Casey lay her palms on the cold pavement, gasping like she’d run a mile, adrenalin rushing through her.  


“What did you say?” Dr Staple was hissing at her. “We agreed to bring him back safely! What did you say?”

She didn’t reply, blinking back tears of relief, as she saw some of the SWAT team get in their cars and give chase. They would try, but they wouldn’t find him again. Not without help.

Dr Staple walked away, heels clicking against the road, to check on Mr. Glass and David Dunn. Casey came to her feet, watching the scene with a strange detachment.

Mr. Glass was surely dead, as his elderly mother cried over his prone body, stroking his wild hair with a trembling hand.

Dr Staple was yelling something at David Dunn, maybe asking him to go after the Beast again, but Casey couldn’t make out the words, nor the response of David’s son, short and angry.

She went over to Elijah’s mother, and knowing the pain she was feeling, simply sat with her and held her hand as her son’s body went cold.  
*  
*  
*  
Dr Staple had released Casey after holding her for most of the day in her office. Casey was refusing to talk any more about the Horde, and Dr Staple was frustrated by her silence; Casey also noted that no one from law enforcement was involved in the questioning, so Dr Staple must be playing the escape close to her chest for now. Besides, Casey didn’t think she’d technically done anything illegal. Aiding a fugitive, possibly?

She was already halfway home in a cab when she noticed the blood on her blouse, from being close to the Beast, the blood of the cops he’d mauled.

She only felt a sort of… resignation. They didn’t have to die, but when you decide to go up against a wild animal unprepared, it’s a real possibility. Her dad had taught her that. Deer on a rampage could kill you just as quickly as wolves, if provoked.

And her Uncle John had taught her that being wounded makes you even more dangerous. Never underestimate a wounded animal, as they will fight with everything they have left. Just as Casey had.

They pulled up outside Casey’s foster home on the outskirts of Philadelphia, and she passed over the crisp bill that Dr Staple had reluctantly given her for the journey home. She snuck around the back of the large modern house, taking a fresh shirt off the washing line and swapping it for her bloodied one, which she held for a moment before stuffing it deep into the bin.

She took a deep breath before unlocking the back door and announcing, “I’m home!”

The chorus of little voices that responded made her smile, despite her trying day. She had decided to work with kids, whether that meant being a teacher or a counselor or an educator at the zoo. Perhaps she could help others like her.

As she had a shower that night, relaxing in the steady stream of hot water, she reflected on her time with the Horde, as she often did. She had decided that didn’t agree with the Beast. He saw people who hadn’t been through strife as too innocent, and he longed to make them see the harsh reality of the world. Casey once wanted that; she looked at the lives that Claire and Marcia and her friends had lived, and bitterly wanted them to feel even a moment of her pain, understand her struggle, watch the princesses of her school crying and screaming and struggling… but now, she would do anything to stop others from experiencing that same pain. She had watched Claire and Marcia devoured by the Beast, and she had wanted time to reverse.

Living in a foster house with several kids from different circumstances, it reaffirmed her wish. She wanted children to be safe, and loved, and ignorant. She wouldn’t wish her life upon anyone, even though it had made her strong.

The Beast thought it made her pure, and worthy, and righteous. Casey just felt… tired.

She finally turned off the water, and stepped out and wrapped herself in a fluffy blue towel. Every day she marveled at the freedom she now had to choose her own path. She could wear what she liked, stay out if she liked, go to bed when she liked. It wasn’t teenage rebellion, or slack foster parents—it was a sign of trust that she hadn’t had with her controlling Uncle John.

She dried off and changed into her pajamas quickly, as one of the other kids would need the bathroom soon.

“G’night, Casey,” one of the older kids said as they passed in the hallway.

“Good night, Anton,” she replied, slipping into her room and closing the door behind her.

She had the luxury of a room to herself, while the younger kids had to bunk together. It was partly to respect her request for privacy, but partly because she knew she’d had some pretty loud nightmares. 

Her foster mom had booked her into a local psychologist called Dr Henson pretty quickly after she brought charges against her Uncle John, and the kindly old man had helped her immensely throughout the trial. His words had been a shield against the laser-focused glares of her Uncle, as had her knowledge that she had survived much, much worse.

She’d barely talked about her captivity with Dr Henson, however. He seemed to think she just wasn’t ready to face this new trauma; but Casey knew the real reason for her silence. She’d bonded with her captor, and she felt a mixture of shame and fascination whenever she reflected on her time with all the identities of Kevin Wendell Crumb.

She wasn’t ready to admit to Dr Henson that she missed the Horde. She dreamed of being back in that room, of waking up to Hedwig lisping her name, of Dennis’ scowl as he realised that she wasn’t cowed by him.

She was all kinds of fucked up, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

It was the reason she’s sought out Dr Staple and requested to see Kevin. It was the reason she called him to the Light and comforted him, trying to make him understand that he was more than the sum of his parts. It was the reason she had told the Beast to run.

She lay awake that night, staring at the billowing curtains in front of her half-open window, knowing that he wouldn’t come to her. Not yet.  
*  
*  
*  
School that week dragged on. Everyone already knew that she was the one who got away, but now the Horde was back in the news for his brief capture and escape from the Mental Hospital. They didn’t know her part in it, of course, but they still watched her like she was about to flip out on them.  


She kept her head down, did her work, and answered her teachers concerns politely. No, she didn’t need extra time on the assignment. No, she didn’t need someone to walk her home. No, she wasn’t afraid to work with guys in her group, not even the ones who sniggered behind their hands that she’d obviously slept with her captor to get out.

She could see the curiosity in her teachers’ eyes. The girl who used to act out and get detention on a weekly basis, anti-social and tight-lipped, was now a polite and well-behaved young adult. Surely she should be more of a mess after being kidnapped by a monster?

She’d been living with the real monster all along. The kidnapping had been her wake-up call, as brutal and terrifying as it had been.

She’d seen some of Dr Fletcher’s notes on Kevin, and his early life. Some of it had been leaked to the media, some of it she’d… borrowed... from a police file, left unattended at the precinct while she was there to give statements. He’d felt abandoned by the death of a parent, just as she had. He’d been abused, just as she had.

It was impossible not to feel the same pity that she’d felt on that day, looking at Kevin, as he begged her to kill him.  
*  
*  
*  
Friday afternoon found her in the library, polishing her history essay and wondering if Orwell would be useful as a second pair of eyes.

Someone dropped a textbook on the floor, and she flinched as it made a loud bang. She hadn’t even realised she’d been holding so much tension until she unclenched her fist and tried to get some blood back into her fingers.

She closed her books with a sigh and shoved them into her backpack. It was the same one they’d initially seized as evidence, but she’d bullied them into giving it back. She grasped the straps tight as she swung it onto her back and left the library, glances following her all the way to the front gates.

It was freezing, the kind of crisp cold afternoon that meant they wouldn’t wake up to snow. She retrieved a lumpy green beanie from her bag, something she’d made in home economics class a few years ago, and reluctantly put it on her head, knowing that being warm was more important. Her breath steamed as she set her pace along the now familiar route home, keeping an eye out for anything out of place.

She stopped at the bodega on the corner that usually catered to the students of her school, and the cashier barely spared her a glance as she bought an iced coffee and a muffin.

As she stepped back onto the street, she felt that she was being watched, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling from more than just the cold. She gave no sign that she suspected anything, but kept her head up higher as she continued on her walk.

She was forced to stop at the corner, as cars rushed across the intersection, and she itched to keep moving. She got out her phone, borrowing a tactic she saw on TV, and turned the camera on to look behind her.

As she zoomed in and scanned, she thought that she’d been imagining it… but then she saw it.

A pickup with the Philadelphia Zoo logo emblazoned on the side was parked just up the street. It idled quietly before indicating, pulling out into traffic, stopping a few cars behind her.

She couldn’t make out the shape of anyone in the car, but she was certain that Dennis was behind the wheel.

She put her phone away and walked across the road, occasionally directing glances at the van which was following her pace.

She diverted from her usual route home, heart thudding, and turned into a road alongside an apartment construction site. Everyone had gone home, and it was eerily silent without the sound of hammers and drills.

She could hear the purr of a single engine. She finally stopped, and turned.

The Zoo truck came to a smooth stop beside her, and the passenger door opened.

“Good afternoon, Casey,” Dennis said. He was wearing an ugly brown pair of overalls over a forest green zoo employee polo, almost comically opposed to his usual black button-down.

She didn’t even look to see if anyone else was around, only climbed into the truck and closed the door behind her.

His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, and he made no move to touch her, or even look in her direction.

“Hi, Dennis. I’m glad to see that you’re okay,” she ventured.

He sniffed. “Given the state of this vehicle, I’m sure I’ll catch something.”

Casey smiled. “All the same.”

He went to use the indicator, but hesitated. “Casey. I understand that you have been… useful… to the Horde. I understand that some of us may see you as a friend.”

“I certainly think so,” Casey said. “You’re my friend too, Dennis.”

“Don’t,” he said sharply. “Not after… well. We just wanted to say, we can manage without you. If you have a life, now.”

She seriously considered what he was saying, secretly touched that they were giving her a way out. But her mind was set before she even acknowledged it. “We’re in this together. All of us,” she said finally. “I can’t say that I agree with everything you’ve done, but I know that I need to be a part of what happens next.”

Dennis exhaled, and finally glanced at her. His usually harsh brow seemed a bit softer.

“No more wasting time, then,” he said, and returned his attention to driving.

Casey sent a quick text to her foster mother.

I’m sorry for causing any trouble. I have to leave to help a friend. It’s safer for you if you don’t know anything else. Thank you for being supportive, and giving me a home. I’ll never forget it. Say bye to the kids for me.

She then removed the sim card and flicked it out the window, not missing Dennis’ wince at the littering.

“Should we change cars?” she asked. “It’s distinctive.”

He nodded jerkily. “I knew where the keys were, so it was convenient. We will find another one.”

They rode on in silence for a while, until they pulled into the back carpark of a shopping centre, well out of range of any security cameras the mall security may be working with.

“It’s safer if I go in. What do we need?”

He looked at her for a long time. She wondered if she’d misjudged their reason for being there.

“I think… Barry might know better.”

She blinked. “Is he… allowed in the Light?”

Dennis pursed his lips. “Barry has come around to believing in what the Beast is capable of, even though he doesn’t approve of some of his methods. Besides, he wants to make sure you’re okay.”

Before she could respond, his eyes closed, and his whole body shuddered, as he switched alters like someone shrugging off a coat to try on another.

“Casey! Oh, my dear…” Barry enthused, reaching across to grasp her hands in his. Her eyes watered at the warm gesture.

“Hi, Barry! It’s nice to meet you properly,” she managed to respond.

“I know! Not in some windowless room, although my car was much nicer than this,” he sighed, “But it couldn’t be helped.”

She shrugged. “I’ve seen worse.”

His expression darkened. “So I’ve been told. Did you give your Uncle one last kick from us?”

She laughed at his sincerity. “It would have been nice, but I think he’ll get enough in jail.”

“And your new family were treating you well?”

She nodded. “They were very nice, and they meant well, but…”

“They weren’t family,” Barry finished.

“Yeah.”

“And they convinced you to upgrade your wardrobe? You look gorgeous!”

She blushed. “I didn’t need to hide anymore,” she said quietly. Plus, she actually got an allowance now.

He smiled, knowingly, and thankfully dropped it. “Alright, baby girl, here’s the list…”

She felt slightly out-of-body as she took a shiny card from Barry and wrote down each of the items he needed; mainly clothes and living stuff (“anything you want, within the budget, and it’s yours!”), but also some hardware. She itched to ask for details, but didn’t in the end.

She rushed around the aisles, picking things that would hopefully meet Barry and Dennis’ standards, and threw in a new pair of headphones for Hedwig.

No one gave her a second glance.

She almost panicked when she returned to the parking lot to see no sign of the Zoo truck, but Barry was waving out the window of a nearby Prius.

“Should I ask how you got this?” she asked, after putting her purchases in the boot and getting in the front seat.

“Ian has a very specific set of skills, and perhaps watches too many movies. It did come in handy today. Now buckle up, safety first.”

She felt a hysterical laugh tickling at the back of her throat, that the man who kidnapped and tried to kill her was now lecturing her about road safety.

She watched his profile, softer than Dennis’, his eyes flickering around as he checked each intersection and lane change several times. They’d shaved his head again, in the hospital, and the stubble had barely begun to show. She knew that Dennis preferred it shorter, but what about the others?

He had dark rings under his eyes, so it was possible he hadn’t slept that much in the week she’d been at school, preparing for whatever comes next as a fugitive.

“Something troubling you, baby?” he asked, and she realised that she had been staring.

She shrugged. “Just wondering if you’re really okay,” she mumbled. “They were shooting at you, and I imagine that the SWAT guys were chasing you for a few days…”

He smiled. “That’s sweet of you. But we’re all okay. A little frustrated, but fine.”

They were well and truly out of the city now, the city’s tallest new eyesore behind them, the sun setting and throwing out its last rays against the winter chill.

“You haven’t asked where we’re going,” he observed, as he turned the headlights on.

“I probably wouldn’t recognise it,” she said. “I haven’t travelled much, since my dad would take me camping upstate as a kid.”

The mention of her father brought back the ghost of Kevin’s own father, and Barry looked troubled.

“We’re not going camping,” was all he said finally.

She nodded off, lulled by the hum of the road under the car tires, the swoosh of cars going the other direction.

It was Dennis who woke her up later that night, shaking her lightly. He’d already changed into one of the outfits she’d procured at the store, and it was a relief to see him back to his normal self.

“We’re here,” he said, staring at his hand resting on her shoulder. He pulled it back like he’d been burned.

Casey pretended not to notice, and looked around instead. They were parked in front of a low concrete building, almost like a bunker, set into the side of a wooded slope.

“Where are we?” she asked, stretching out her legs as she got out of the car.

“It’s a research facility for the university. They come out here to track the wildlife, do some culling, some environmental management. But it’s winter, so it’s closed.”

She nodded. It would be a good place to hide out, for now. The remoteness comforted her, so far away from all the bullshit of the city.

They retrieved their bags from the trunk, and Casey saw that the padlock on the wooden door of the building had already been jimmied open, presumably using one of the tools she’d bought.

Dennis fidgeted with his pockets while Casey pushed the door open, and tried to turn on the lights.

“They must use a generator, this far out,” she said, when nothing happened. “I’ll have a look at it first.”

Dennis nodded, and followed in behind her. They could barely see the layout of the inside, the few windows shining with the moonlight, but it looked like they were in the main office space, surrounded by filing cabinets and tables strewn with maps and equipment.

It was also very, very dusty.

Casey flicked a concerned look at Dennis, but he just looked at the job they had to do with grim determination.

Together, they made the space livable. Casey used the flashlight to search around out the back and turn on the generator, and they both set about clearing some space for eating, sleeping, and storing anything else they’d brought. There was a tiny eco-outhouse with a toilet and a space for a bucket shower, and the tank was full of fresh ice-cold water to use. They set up the toiletries in there, twenty-five toothbrushes and two tubes of toothpaste sitting in a repurposed jug.

Casey was wide awake once they’d finished packing away the research materials and disinfected all the surfaces, especially once she realised they’d have to find a sleeping arrangement to suit them both.

Whoever she would be sleeping next to, that is. She didn’t think she’d like to awaken to Patricia standing over her again. The others, however…

She shook herself and made a little nest of blankets and parkas they’d found in the cupboards. Hesitating only a moment, she made an identical pile next to it, only a few feet of space between them.  
Dennis had gone outside to change his clothes, and he stiffened when he saw the arrangements she’d made in his absence.

“I’ll go clean off,” Casey said quickly. She ducked past him, face burning, and went to the tank to splash herself with some freezing water and brush her teeth.

By the time she came back, Dennis had turned off most of the lights, and was reclined on one of the make-shift beds, trying to appear fast asleep. Or perhaps he was just exhausted; he and Barry had been driving through the night, after all.

Casey followed his lead, settling down in the layers of blankets and bunching one up as a makeshift pillow.

Her breathing seemed way too loud in the silence. The only other thing she could hear was the buzzing of the lantern that Dennis had left on, sitting between their beds.

“Dennis?” she whispered eventually.

She watched him carefully, and she saw him twitch just a bit as she said his name.

“Good night,” she said, and reached across to turn off the lantern.

As she closed her eyes against the pitch black of the night, and tried to adjust to the absolutely quiet, she could just hear his whispered response, like a night-time prayer. “Good night, Casey.”  
*  
*  
*


	2. Do I Dare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left comments and kudos! I'm glad we could have this group-therapy.
> 
> I plan to update every few days.
> 
> Song for this story: Puzzle, by Birds of Tokyo. It's been on repeat.

  
When she finally stirred, one arm numb from where it had been trapped under her body, she had to squint against the light of day. She had never been a morning person, but outside of a proper bed, she hardly felt that she’d rested at all. She groaned as she sat up, sure that her bed-head would be horrendous.

She blearily looked around, and found herself alone. Dennis’ bedding was all folded in a neat pile.

The small bar heater that they had used to keep the night chills at bay was now switched off. Shivering slightly at the change of temperature, she finally stood up and folded her blankets like he had. She stumbled to the front door, slipped on her boots without bothering with the laces, and went out into the cold.

She could hear the crackling of a fire, and sure enough, she saw her companion sitting by the freshly laid fire pit, a long stick in hand.

“Ah, the sleepy head has risen!” Barry said, grinning at her as he poked at something in the ashes. “Did you sleep well?”

“Kinda,” she rasped. Barry took pity on her and passed her a steaming hot mug of tea, which she held tightly and sipped slowly.

She saw now that Barry had wrapped some potatoes in tin-foil, and boiled water for some ramen. They ate the potatoes with melted butter, which dripped over their fingers and the ground.

They had their breakfast in silence, as Casey was just waking up and it all felt a bit too surreal to start making conversation.

Barry soon left to finish his morning routine, leaving Casey hypnotised by the dancing flames. She had almost convinced herself that this was like a normal camping trip, when she heard someone running behind her.

She gasped and spun around, but was relieved to see that it was Hedwig. Other than the way he carried himself, he’d also tied Dennis’ jacket around his waist and rolled up the ends of his trousers.

“Casey! Aw, man, it’s so cool here!” he cried, swinging his arms out wide, as though encompassing all of nature between them.

“Hedwig, it’s great to see you!” Casey exclaimed, abandoning her log to go up to him. He led her through some complicated fist-bumping routine as a greeting, but then she gave up and hugged him close.

He giggled, and held her tightly as well.

“Casey, are you still my girlfriend? ‘Cause I’ve been tellin’ people that you are, and some of them don’t believe me, but I think that you are because we kissed that one time? Et cetera?”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Well, Hedwig, you’re nine years old, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I’m eighteen. I’m way too old for you. Although I did enjoy our kiss,” she reassured him.

He looked a bit bummed out. “But… Kevin isn’t eighteen. So you can’t go out with him either. If you still like him.”

“I like him a lot as well, Hedwig. It’s just…complicated, adult stuff.”

He shrugged, but seemed to be less concerned. “Oh. Boring. Hey, do you wanna see how fast I can run?”

The rest of the morning was spent in silly games, and when Casey brought out the present of new headphones, Hedwig declared them ‘so fierce’ like he had seen people say on TV, and he promised to use them as soon as he got a new music player.

Casey was about to offer him her phone as a back-up (despite its lack of Kanye and Drake) when Hedwig went still. “Hey, Case? Dennis really wants the light now. He doesn’t like it when I have too much fun, y’know.”

“Oh! Well, I had fun with you, Hedwig. Maybe next time we can choose some music together.” She smiled, relishing the fact that she didn’t have to manipulate the poor kid any more. She could just be nice, because he deserved a friend.

He grinned shyly, his tongue poking out between his teeth. “See ya.”

After a deep breath, the innocence left his face, and Dennis was standing before her. He took a moment to straighten out his clothes.

“We’re wasting daylight,” Dennis grumbled. “We need to take stock, check the news bulletins and the police scanner, decide where to go next…”

“Hello to you as well, how are you, I’m doing great, thanks for asking,” she muttered, not entirely impressed by his vibe after the vivacity of Hedwig.

He was taken aback for a moment, and scratched his head in a familiar way. It must be some kind of anxious tic. “Uh, sorry. I’m not used to… social niceties.”

She immediately felt bad for her sarcasm. “It’s okay. I can’t imagine it’s always fun having one of the others side-track you like that.”

There was an awkward silence before she said, “Did you sleep well?”

He looked at her like she’d asked him something scandalous, but realising it was as innocent as she intended, he responded, “Yes, thank you. And yourself?”

“Not too bad.”

They walked back into the building, letting in a blast of cold air before Dennis shut the door firmly behind them.

“Dennis, can I ask you something?”

He wiped the doorknob with an antiseptic cloth, put it in the trash, and then nodded.

“I’m not afraid of being hurt by the Beast. But I was just wondering… are you planning on giving him the Light? Or Patricia? It’s just, I don’t want something bad to happen, and…” she trailed off, unsure of what she was really asking.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “That doesn’t sound like someone who isn’t afraid.”

“It’s just best to be prepared, that’s all!”

He nodded. “I can see why you would think that. The truth is, I haven’t heard much from Patricia since our time at the Facility. She saw it as her job to… bring the Beast to the world. So that he could protect us.”

“And he did,” Casey said, “If all you needed protection from was bullets.”

Dennis pursed his lips. “That is a distinct advantage. However, we also hoped that it would allow Kevin to rest easy. Knowing that someone was protecting him, someone more than me. Someone infallible.”

“But he’s not resting easy, is he?” Casey said sadly. “I saw it, when we talked at the Facility.”

He blinked. “You talked to Kevin?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I’m never sure when you guys talk to each other, it was only for a moment, but… he was frightened. He wanted to know what he’d been doing.”

Dennis turned away. “He doesn’t need to know.”

“You all think Kevin’s too weak to handle any of this, but you haven’t given him a chance! Not since you turned up when he was three years old. He hasn’t been given the chance to try, and fail, and try again.”

“It would break him. You don’t understand…”

“It didn’t break me,” she snapped. “I didn’t have you, or Patricia, or Hedwig, to help me when things got really bad. But I’m worthy to live in the Beast’s world?”

Dennis groaned. “We’re all just… trying. Please, Casey, leave it alone.”

They descended into frosty silence. Dennis collected some supplies to go outside and clean the ‘borrowed’ car, which may take all day with his stress driving his compulsion to do things properly. Casey decided to sift through the university’s research equipment to see if there was anything they could use.

She came across a satellite phone, just like her dad used to use on their camping trips to the more remote national parks, and stared at it for a long time. She wanted to get in touch with Joseph Dunn, and see what was going down back in Philadelphia, but she was certain Dennis wouldn’t like the idea. Not only would it be risking their plans, he surely wouldn’t think that the son of the Overseer would be on their side.

Fortunately, given that she had thrown away her SIM card, she knew the Dunn Security number. 215-DUNN-SEC. Someone had a smart business sense, to pick that one up. She guessed that it was Joseph’s idea, rather than David’s.

She peered out the front window. Dennis was shoulders deep in the car’s trunk, and showed no sign of being done with the cleaning.

She took a deep breath, and went as far away as she could from the front of the building, so Dennis wouldn’t hear her talking.

She dialled the number after a few more minutes of contemplation, half hoping that he wouldn’t pick up. She would have to be careful, in case the police were tapping his phone. She couldn’t give anything away that might lead them to her.

After four rings, she heard his voice. “Dunn Home Security, this is Joseph.”

“H-hi, Joseph. My name is… Cassandra,” she muttered, hoping that he would recognise her voice at least.

There was complete silence, and she was worried that the line had dropped out for a moment. “Cassandra. Yes, you’ve… called before. I was hoping to hear from you. How’s life treating you?”

“Can’t complain. I was wondering if you had any… update for us on the recent unrest? My family home is fairly close to the Hospital, and I’m worried for the safety of my… brothers.”

“Well, there’s good news and bad news. The Police seem to have no idea where the Beast has gone. They’ve also dropped charges against the Overseer, on the condition that he stays on a tracking anklet.”

“That seems… strange,” Casey mused. What was Dr Staple playing at, letting him free, after she did so much to contain him? Let alone the Police, who certainly had evidence of David Dunn’s vigilante activities? Perhaps her instincts had been right, back at the Facility… there was something else going on, and they were better off far away from it.

“I think they hope he will lead them to the Beast, but he says he wants nothing to do with it.” Joseph explained.

“I’m sure the Beast won’t be a problem anymore,” Casey said quickly. “I imagine he’s moved on.”

“But anyone who comes across him might be in danger,” Joseph said sharply. “They already think that he’s taken someone. Isn’t it better for everyone if he’s somewhere secure?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re in home security. You know that there’s danger everywhere. All we have to do is make the smartest decision possible, under… adverse circumstances.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Joseph said dubiously. “But you know that you can always come to us, for any of your security needs.”

“I’ll keep you in mind. Don’t worry.”

“Oh, one more thing!”

“I’m listening.”

“It seems that the high-tech security cameras at the Facility weren’t as infallible as everyone seemed to think. Some of the footage was leaked. The deep-web has some… interesting… perspectives on the three patients who escaped.”

Her heart thudded. “People will believe anything these days,” she said finally.

“But sometimes it’s true. Take care of yourself, Casey.”

The line went dead. She stared at the handset for a while, mulling over what Joseph had said. Her disappearance hadn’t gone unnoticed, and she felt some guilt for what her foster family must be going through, even thought she’d sent a goodbye text.

She took the batteries out of the phone and put it back in the drawer, making sure that it was in line with everything else. She went out to the car, where Dennis was scrubbing at the back window with a sponge.

“So, uh… do you need a hand?” she asked tentatively.

His head jerked up, and he looked somewhat bewildered before saying, “If you like.”

He handed her some wipes for the interior dash, and she smiled as he gave her specific instructions on how things were to be done.  
*  
*  
*  
Barry had the Light later that day, to prepare their dinner. He said that all the other alters were hopeless cooks, even the matriarch Patricia, although she certainly tried harder than the rest.

Casey barely had to speak as he rattled off his knowledge of the use of furs in winter fashion through the ages, smiling and laughing at the jokes peppered in his anecdotes. They had hot chocolate instead of tea, and it warmed her from the inside out like nothing else could.

Eventually, it was too cold to stay outside, even with the fire going, as the wind started to pick up. Casey helped Barry quench the fire, pouring water and kicking dirt over the coals. Barry made some joke about being Smokey the Bear, but something about the way he looked huge and menacing against the glow of the dying embers reminded her of the Beast instead, and her smile slid off her face.

Barry seemed to realise what he’d done all too late, and he couldn’t stop saying that he was sorry for reminding her. She shrugged it off, but when she came inside, Barry had moved half of the blankets from his pile to her own bed as a silent apology.

It was Barry who went to the bathroom, but Dennis who returned. Casey had somewhat redistributed the blankets back to being even, not wanting to be the cause of a bad night’s sleep. Dennis frowned at the beds, as though he knew what Barry and Casey had done, but carefully untied his shoes and left them at the door without commenting.

Casey lay down on her side with her eyes mostly closed, so it wouldn’t look like she was staring at Dennis while he prepared for bed. His every movement was so controlled, each button on his coat meticulously fed back through its hole, every surface checked for lint before he hung it up on the pegs near the front door. Underneath he wore a charcoal-grey button down shirt and black trousers.

She was struck by his socks, which were not black, but light blue. Hedwig’s influence, perhaps?

She had to close her eyes as he came closer, afraid of being caught out, and was immediately overwhelmed by the scent of him on one of the blankets. She wasn’t sure whether it was his soap or something else he used, but it was… deep, and natural, and calming.

Well, fuck. She was really losing her sanity out here.

He seemed to take forever to settle, always adjusting the blankets and parkas around him, and this time he turned off the lantern with a quick goodnight.

“Good night, Dennis,” she replied.

She was sure that neither of them slept a wink for many, many hours.

*  
*  
*

When she woke, the lantern was back on, and Hedwig’s face was inches from her own.

“You still make noises in your sleep,” he informed her seriously. “It woke up Dennis. But he didn’t like it so I came to say hi.”

“…hi?”

“Do you wanna make a blanket fort?”

She shrugged off her drowsiness to reply, “Sure.”

He grinned and they got to work, setting up the office chairs as the corners and propping a broom up to create a tent-like roof. Casey suggested that Hedwig could cut out some stars from the office paperwork, and they stuck the clumsy shapes to the sheets above.

“This is really cool, Hedwig,” Casey said finally. “I can’t remember the last time I got to do this with my friends.”

He flumped down on the remaining blankets. “Me neither! Ms Patricia says that I can’t have real friends, so I have a lot of animal friends and imaginary ones.”

“That sounds really lonely,” Casey said softly.

He shrugged, and tucked his chin into his chest. “She’s right. Kids are scared of me because I can control the Light.”

“They’re just jealous,” Casey said firmly. “I think it’s pretty cool.”

He hid a smile. “You wanna come here?”

Casey had been sitting against the perimeter, but now Hedwig patted the blankets next to him. She shuffled forward a little bit, until he nodded in approval.

“We can play truth or dare!”

She usually hated this game, at the pity-invite sleepovers she’d had when she was younger. The other girls would try to get her to reveal her secrets, so she usually took dares, and didn’t care if they were mean or illegal. It was better than the way that people looked at her after she told them anything about her home life.

She nodded. “Sure. You first. Truth or dare?”

“Dare!”

She laughed, knowing that he would choose that. “I dare you to…whistle as loud as you can!”

He pursed his lips and tried to whistle, almost going cross-eyed from the effort, so Casey had to teach him how. Once he got a nice loud whistle going, he practiced for a while before saying, “Oh, it’s your turn! Truth or dare?”

“Hmm… dare.”

Hedwig thought for a moment, muttering to himself. “I dare you… to… say a swear word!”

“Ooh, that’s a tough one! What about…” she hummed for a moment. “Shit!”

He giggled. “Another one, a bad one!”

“Worse than shit? What about… crap!”

He gasped, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Okay, my turn again.”

“Truth or…”

“Dare!”

“Dare again? Okay, Hedwig, I dare you to… eat a piece of paper!”

He wrinkled up his nose, but dutifully picked up a star that didn’t quite make it to their constellation, and stuffed it in his mouth.

“Twuth o’ dare,” he said, still trying to chew.

“Truth,” she said without thinking. Although, maybe she didn’t need to be afraid of telling the truth anymore.

“Okay… uh… do you like anybody?” he asked, eyes wide with anticipation.

She faltered, unsure of how she would even begin to answer that question. “I change my mind, I choose dare.”

“Aw, man! Alright. I dare you to… wear one of Mr Dennis’ shirts!”

Casey’s jaw dropped. “That’s not fair on Mr Dennis, is it?”

“He won’t know. Come on, just for a minute, pleeease?”

She sighed, and reached outside their little blanket fort to grab the shirt that Hedwig had thrown aside when he’d taken the Light. The dark grey button-up was the one that she’d bought at the mall, but now that it had been worn, it seemed way too intimate to hold, let alone wear.

Hedwig started clapping, and wanting to please him, she put her arms in the sleeves, slightly too long for her, and buttoned the shirt slightly askew.

“You look just like him! Say something that Dennis would say,” Hedwig egged her on.

“Uh… Hedwig you need to clean your room!” she said sternly, which had him literally rolling on the floor with laughter.

She quickly took the shirt off, wafting that same scent from the blankets around her. She folded it neatly and put it on one of the chairs outside the fort, knowing that Dennis would appreciate it.

Hedwig was yawning widely when she crawled back into their hideaway, and she knew that it was very late.

“I think that’s enough for tonight, Hedwig. We need to get some sleep.”

He mumbled something in protest, but he snuggled further into the blankets and closed his eyes.

Casey soon joined him, not too close, but knowing that he could reach out and hold her hand if he became scared in the night.

*


	3. Tea and Sympathy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone who has commented and left kudos. I've steamed ahead and written about ten chapters, but we'll see where the fic gods take me!
> 
> Warning: this chapter contains: reference to child sexual abuse, and brief canon-like violence/gore

In the morning, when Casey was again woken up by the cold, the starry canopy had already been taken down. It was the disadvantage of being a heavy sleeper, that Dennis could take down the fort and she hadn’t even stirred. It was just like when she’d woken up with Hedwig pressed up behind her, back in the basement of the zoo.

She’d learned to value sleep, when she was able to get it. She’d spent too many nights lying awake, terrified that Uncle John would come home just drunk enough to think he could…

Pushing aside her morbid thoughts, she got up and went through her morning routine, shivering as she quickly stripped and splashed the freezing water over her body. She had barely rinsed off the soap before she had to get dry and dressed, retreating to the bunker with her whole body shaking. She’d brought a container of water back to put into the kettle, not trusting the rarely-used plumbing in the building to have clean water.

She still hadn’t seen Dennis, or whoever was in charge that day. The car was still parked out the front, windows showing the signs of early frost.

She made herself a cup of tea from the ancient kettle and sat by the front window, knees tucked up against her chest. She’d always been a pretty solitary person, but sitting alone in this place made her feel unsettled. It was surprising how quickly she’d grown accustomed to having someone to talk to.

It wasn’t long before Dennis came out of the woods, carrying some firewood wrapped in a large tarpaulin. He saw her sitting by the window and nodded to acknowledge her.

After he’d carefully deposited the pile next to their fire pit, and laid the axe down next to them, he disappeared to the bathroom to clean up.

Casey put the kettle on again, and it was ready by the time he returned. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were red from the cold wind, and he accepted the mug of black tea gratefully.

“Just in case the heater breaks,” he explained without introduction.

“It’s a good idea. Just… try not to leave without telling me, in future?”

He nodded, and joined her by the window, which was starting to fog up from their breath and from the steam spiralling out of their mugs. She noted with a suppressed smile that the steam was also getting on Dennis’ glasses, and he had to polish them several times while he sipped his tea. She observed the now-familiar routine. Take out the soft glasses cleaner from the pocket of his slacks, glasses off, rub circles on the left lens, right lens, check for spots, place on bridge of the nose, fold glasses cloth, place carefully back in the pocket. Repeat.

“It is peaceful out here,” he said finally. “I don’t think I heard any animals.”

“That was my favourite part of camping with my dad. No interruptions, and when you’d finished with the tasks for the day, there was nothing to do but sit and wait for deer.”

“Do you still hunt?” he asked.

She shook her head. “It’s not the same. Not only now dad is gone, but now that I’ve seen people as prey… I’ve lost the motivation, I guess.”

He didn’t respond, and she could feel the guilt pouring off him in waves.

“Besides, I’ve been really busy at school,” she said quickly. “I want to get a certification in education, maybe child care.”

“That’s good,” he said. “I can imagine you’re really patient with kids. You are with Hedwig, at least.”

She shrugged off his compliment. “He’s easy to get along with.”

“Even when he forces you into a sleepover and makes you do arts and crafts?” he said dryly.

She grinned. “It was fun! You should let him loose more often. Or even better, have some fun for yourself.”

“I don’t really have _hobbies_ ,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m the practical one.”

She reluctantly let it drop, although she promised herself that she would find a way to let Dennis have a life for once. Even when he was pretending to be Barry, it must have been stifling.

“We should put some more distance between us and Philadelphia. We should stay one more night, and then start packing,” Dennis said, taking their empty mugs and placing them in the kitchenette sink, to wash once they fetched some more water to boil.

“So you _do_ have a plan?” Casey asked tentatively.

Dennis leaned back against the countertop and folded his arms, the fabric stretching over his muscles. Casey forced herself to look away.

“Dr Fletcher has… had… a colleague in Baltimore, another expert in DID. She said that if anything happened to her, this doctor would take care of everything.”

Casey frowned. “You think they would help us?”

“I’ve looked into his research. Dr Whittington is quite sympathetic to patients with more… violent… personalities. In fact, he has been trialling a new technology that would suppress an identity from coming forward entirely.”

Casey’s eyes widened. “You want to… suppress the Beast? Make sure he can’t have the Light?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for some time. I never wanted any of this, the killing, the terror. The Beast had seemed like the best option. I just wanted Kevin to be protected by someone better than me.”

Casey was floored by his raw honesty, and had no idea what to say.

“There were eleven of us in the Horde, at the end. Eleven identities who believed in the Beast, and what he can do. But we’ve agreed that he’s not what we need right now. He needs to sleep, like Kevin was sleeping.”

“Even Patricia?”

Dennis sighed. “She eventually agreed, for the good of the whole, to let the Beast go for a while. As long as we can call him back, in emergencies.”

“But you don’t know that this doctor can do that,” Casey murmured. “If it’s so experimental.”

“It’s the only plan we have,” he said defensively.

“I didn’t mean to be critical. It’s a good idea. We just need to be careful,” Casey reassured him.

He relaxed. “It’s only two hours to Baltimore, if we take the freeway. But it would be better to take the back roads, especially if this car has been reported stolen.”

“For what it’s worth, Dennis,” she said finally, “I think you’ve done a pretty damn good job of protecting Kevin. I’m sure he’s proud of you.”

He flinched, but she could just see a small smile beginning to spread on his face as he turned away. “That’s a matter of opinion.”

*

*

*

The day dragged, now that Casey knew they would be leaving the next morning. She listened to the radio, paying close attention to the local news, but there was only a fleeting reference to the continuing manhunt for an escaped psychiatric patient, Kevin Wendell Crumb, also known as the Horde.

There was no mention of her, although she was certain that the authorities knew that she was missing by now. Her foster family would have reported it as soon as they got her farewell text; they were such nice people, who would never imagine running away like she had. They would be worried, even though they’d only had Casey for a short time.

 

She resisted the urge to message them again, but promised that once she was able, she would send them something to show her gratitude for their support. It wasn’t their fault that she was so screwed up.

Barry made them dinner again, but it was obvious that his mind was elsewhere, as much as he tried to keep up a friendly front. He’d been holding all of Kevin’s alters at bay for so long, it must have been disorientating to now be sharing the Light with them on a regular basis.

The sun set early, and once everything was ready to go for their drive to Baltimore in the morning, they went to bed.

She dreamed.

_She’d opened her eyes, and the bunker didn’t have any windows. It was strange, as she could distinctly remember that there were windows, and she could see the trees swaying in the wind outside… and where was the door?_

_Everything was washed in a sickly red light, like a bloodied sunset._

_She heard a growl from behind her, and she froze._

_“Don’t turn around, Casey,” she told herself. “Don’t look at it.”_

_It came closer, snarling, panting, and she could feel its hot breath on the back of her neck._

_“Don’t look, don’t look, don’t…”_

_But this wasn’t just any monster she imagined as a child, one that would retreat if she didn’t acknowledge it._

_It grabbed her by the hair and tugged her down, and she cried out in pain and fear. The Beast, larger than life, with actual claws and fangs…_

_“Impure,” it snarled out her death sentence._

_She struggled to get up, but her limbs were made of lead, and his claws seemed to scrape everywhere at once, holding her down…_

_She knew that if she said his name, she would make him stop, but she couldn’t remember it. In her terror, all of her good sense melted away, and there was nothing she could do to help herself._

_So she watched in horror as he pinned her down, sniffing her body like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever smelled, and his teeth bared once he got to her stomach. They were already tinged with blood, his or hers, she wasn’t sure._

_“No, please…”_

_But he looked straight at her, a falsely tender look in his eyes, and he said, “You be good for me, Casey-Bear.”_

_John ripped into her abdomen with quick swipes of his teeth, and she screamed and thrashed, but piece by agonising piece, she was devoured._

She awoke with a choked scream, and she doubled over, the ghost of the pain of being disembowelled rushing through her with the sickening rush of adrenalin. She clapped one hand over her mouth, trying to stop her panicked panting. She was sweating, despite the cold.

“Casey?”

She looked at Dennis, and his eyes were wide with concern, and compassion, and pain… _wait._

“Kevin?” she gasped.

He nodded, swallowing hard. “Did you have a bad dream?”

She inhaled shakily. “The worst.”

He held out his arms, the invitation clear in his compassionate eyes, and she broke.

She sobbed, so tired of hiding her fear, and let herself fall against him. He stroked her hair and whispered little comforts, wiping away her tears and holding her as close as he dared.

Her hysteria ebbed, and she was left with a sense of being drained, but also being warmed.

“It’ll get better for both of us, won’t it?” Kevin said softly. “If I can be half as brave as you.”

She hiccoughed suddenly, and he chuckled. “Never mind being brave right now, little one. Just rest easy. I’ll keep the Light and watch until you fall asleep, okay?”

She nodded, and squirmed back into his embrace. He pressed against her back and legs, and she could feel his even breath against her neck, as his hands still moved in calming strokes over her upper arms.

“Thank you, Kevin,” she whispered, and he squeezed her arm once, before she fell asleep, exhausted from the ordeal.

Kevin drifted in and out of awareness, and felt at peace. He could tell that Casey was now sleeping soundly, from her slow breathing and the relaxed expression on her pale face. With a contented sigh, he relinquished the Light, and tried to ease the transition to Dennis as smoothly as possible.

Regardless, Dennis stiffened and was momentarily terrified that he’d moved to Casey without her permission; but Kevin’s parting thoughts were only of offering comfort from a nightmare, and that she had gladly embraced him.

Every fibre of his being was telling him that it was wrong. He’d done terrible things to her, to her friends, and he’d envisioned doing worse. Patricia was right, she was always right— he was sick. He didn’t deserve to be holding this girl.

He closed his eyes, pushed his self-loathing to the back of his mind, and let himself be adrift on the intoxicating scent of her.

*

*

*

In the early hours, the fuel for the generator dropped below acceptable levels. The generator spluttered, beeped out a warning, and shut itself down. The heater inside turned off, ticking quietly as it cooled.

The two visitors inside slept on, warmed by each other’s body heat and the blankets they’d shared. Soon, you could see their breath steaming in the cold air.

*

*

*

It was Casey who woke first. She remembered the nightmare, in flashes of phantom pain, but she felt it all melt away when she remembered Kevin’s tenderness, and his promise to watch over her. She felt clean, like a storm had washed all of her anxiety away, leaving only the fresh scent of water.

She snuggled deeper into the blankets, not quite ready to give up that languid feeling, and the man behind her stirred, half-pulling her back against him; his arm was a warm brace around her waist as he exhaled deeply into her hair.

Casey felt somewhat overwhelmed. It was one thing to be comforted by a friend in the middle of the night. It was quite another thing to wake up being spooned by a man who fascinated her so deeply. Surely it wasn’t _proper_.

She smiled despite her self-admonishment. If she could admit that Dennis fascinated her, that she was transfixed by his meticulous ways, then she could certainly enjoy the situation they’d been forced into. It wasn’t a crime to be… curious… about what went on behind the bravado.

She relished his proximity, that familiar earthy smell surrounding her. She wanted to turn, be face to face, examine every micro-expression as he woke, look into his blue eyes and know whether he could stop punishing himself for long enough to really give himself a chance.

She wanted this intimacy, like she’d never wanted it before. She hoped and prayed that it would happen, the pure desire swelling inside her like a balloon.

Before she could act upon those impulses, he withdrew his arm and rolled onto his back with a short exhalation. He sounded almost… annoyed.

“I think the heating went off,” Dennis said sharply. “I’m sorry if I… if we overstepped.”

He rose, making sure to rearrange the blankets in his absence.

The cold air hit her back instantly, and she shivered. She made a conscious effort to smile up at him. “That’s okay. It was kind of nice, having someone there. Not just Kevin, but you.”

_Kind of really, really, nice._

He rubbed his head three times, still looking at her like she was the key to revealing all of the secrets of the universe. He looked like he was about to reply, but instead he retreated to fetch his glasses from the pocket of his overcoat, and started getting ready for the day ahead.

She lay back on her makeshift pillow, heart still thudding, as Dennis went outside to check the generator. She stretched, feeling an ache that she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time.

_Well, I’m in it now._

*

 


	4. News Flash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having now seen Glass a second time, I can reliably inform you that a) it still hurts, and b) it'll always fucking hurt, but c) I will watch it again anyway.
> 
> Not sure what that says about me... anyway, onwards!

True to Dennis’ prediction, the generator had stopped in the night. With no fuel suitable, they had to make do without heating, lighting, or the kettle. That last one was the real kicker for Casey—she’d come to rely on that morning cup of tea.

Dennis set up a small fire outside from the firewood he’d collected, to at least warm their breakfast, and Casey called upon her camping experience to rig up an a-frame of branches to hang up a pot, in the hopes that the water would boil. He watched her improvisation with amusement, but was reluctantly impressed when it paid off.

Flakes of almost-snow began to drift from the skies as they finished the meagre meal. Dennis eventually called it. “It’ll be warmer in the car. We should leave soon.” 

Casey helped Dennis pack the car, and straighten out all of the belongings in the research station, so that hopefully the university research teams wouldn’t even know they were there (despite the broken padlock and the lack of fuel in the generator, but that could have been done by any old thief over the long winter months). She said a fond farewell to their little hideaway as they drove off, which made Dennis roll his eyes when he thought she wasn’t looking. 

They drove for about an hour before Dennis decided to pull over and get gas from a place that was remote enough to be sparsely monitored. He stayed outside to fill up the car, and sent Casey inside to pay.

“You know the drill, same as the mall,” he said seriously.

“You worry too much, I’ll be fine."

She smiled as she walked away, knowing that his concern for her wellbeing was part of the package. He’d directed it at Kevin for so many years, as had all the other alters; but now, she had his back, and he had hers. It was novel, to have that kind of kinship.

She ducked into the gas station, hair tucked up under her beanie. The young guy behind the counter was on his phone, tapping it furiously as he played some flash game. He barely glanced at her.

She wandered the small room, picking up some food and hygiene items that they needed. She was sorely tempted by the chocolate section, but knew that they needed to keep to a budget.

She walked past the newspapers, glancing at the headlines with curiosity, before one made her stop in her tracks.

THE HORDE STRIKES AGAIN- RESPECTED PSYCHIATRIST FOUND DEAD

Casey stared at it for several moments, but it didn’t resolve itself into any sentence that would make sense. Were they talking about Dr Fletcher again?

But below was a photograph of Dr Ellie Staple, barely smiling as she shook someone’s hand behind a lectern.

She grabbed the paper with shaking hands and added it to her basket. The teenager seemed to take forever to ring up her items and ask if she had any loyalty cards.

She shook her head to every question, paid, and forced herself to walk calmly outside.

Dennis was sitting in the stolen car with the engine running, just as he had promised.

“Look,” Casey blurted, shoving the paper at him as she leapt into the car.

He grabbed it from her gingerly, but soon forgot his fear of contamination as he swiftly read the article. Casey craned her neck to read the text that she’d missed before.

_Philadelphia Police have announced this morning that a 43 year old woman, formally identified as Dr Eleanor Staple, has been found murdered in central Philadelphia._

_“Dr Staple was found unconscious by a member of her staff near the Raven Hill Memorial Psychiatric Hospital, and was unfortunately unable to be revived by first responders,” Captain Harriet Kaminsky said in a press conference at the precinct. “The victim sustained serious internal injuries from a crushing incident, and from what we have ascertained, this appears to be consistent with the activities of Mr Kevin Crumb, AKA the Horde. Investigations are ongoing, and we cannot comment any further at this time. We would urge anyone to report anything suspicious to the authorities._ _"_

_Originally from Seattle, very little is known of Dr Staple’s personal life. Her colleagues at Raven Hill Memorial released a short statement asking for privacy at this difficult time, and praising her life-long pursuit of mental health reform._

_Dr Staple has been in public eye in recent weeks, as it was rumoured that she was solely responsible for the Sectioning of three notorious criminals: the Horde, the Overseer, and Mr Glass. While no further details were forthcoming, the_ Mirror _has learned from sources inside Raven Hill that Dr Staple was allegedly unable to cure Mr Crumb of his delusions, and he may have resented her for the treatment she attempted to perform before his violent escape._

_For more information on the Horde, possible sightings, and how to stay safe, turn to Page 4._

“That’s… not possible. The Beast couldn’t have left without us noticing,” Dennis choked, crushing the newspaper against the steering wheel. “Barry’s sharing control of the Light, but no one would ever ask the Beast to do this, we wouldn’t…”

“Of course not. You didn’t do this,” Casey said softly, laying a hand on his forearm. “What we really need to be asking is… who’s trying to frame you?”

He looked at her in disbelief, no answer forthcoming. He had obviously assumed that Casey had wanted to confront him for the Beast’s reported atrocity.

“You… believe me. You think I’m being framed,” he said finally.

“Of course, Dennis. Not only was it impossible for you to slip away, I know that you wouldn’t go back there just for revenge. It doesn’t make any sense. Dr Staple certainly did you wrong—keeping you locked up, forcing the Light to jump around with her strobe machine, making you doubt your abilities—but that’s not enough for any of your alters to want to kill her. Right?”

Dennis nodded slowly, gradually relaxing from his state of near-panic. “We don’t like her. She’s not like Dr Fletcher. But Dr Staple didn’t know that the Beast could be real. We hadn’t shown the world what he could do.”

Casey smiled. “I bet she believed in him at the end. She grilled me pretty hard about what you could do after you escaped. Not that I told her anything,” she added quickly.

“Did she hurt you?” he asked, tensing up again.

“No, nothing like that! She was just… upset. She didn’t understand what she saw, when I met the others in your cell.”

“What didn’t she understand?” Dennis pressed her.

Casey regretted ever opening her mouth.

“Besides the fact that I should have run away screaming, rather than come to Raven Hill and ask to see you? Well, you’re not exactly meant to kiss your captor, even if he’s a nine year old kid at the time,” she said, trying to keep her tone light, but failing.

Dennis turned away. “Hedwig didn’t know what he was asking you. He didn’t know that it was wrong.”

“I know. And besides the fact that I was trying to get him to help me escape, I didn’t really mind. It was just a kid thing. But I think it took Dr Staple by surprise, is all.”

He just sighed, and passed the newspaper back to her so that he could get them on the road again.

Casey didn’t know how else to comfort him, so she just let him drive, occasionally glancing at his hands at precisely ten-and-two on the steering wheel. They weren’t white-knuckled, which she guessed meant that he was okay.

It was Dennis who eventually broke the silence. “Mr Glass kept talking about a… wider conspiracy. An overarching reason for everyone being brought together. He had the whole escape planned out, right up until we reached the forecourt. Then he just seemed content to… sit back and watch us go to Osaka Tower.”

“Surely he wasn’t in his right mind,” Casey said, frowning. “Why else would he leave the rest of the escape to chance?”

Dennis tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in a strict sequence. “He wouldn’t. Which either meant that something went wrong and he couldn’t go through with the last bit of the plan, or…”

He stopped tapping. “He was so insistent on having the Beast climb that building. He kept going on about how it was… scaling man’s achievements, in front of the world.”

“He knew exactly how to appeal to the Beast.” Casey said, “But he certainly didn’t care about any of you. So why else…”

Her eyes widened, as a piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “The cameras! The dark web! Joseph said…”

“Who?”

Her mind raced, and she waved off his question. “Footage of the escape is popping up all over the internet, but not through the main media. Don’t you think that’s odd? Wouldn’t Raven Hill have a better lock on their system?”

“Unless Glass got around it while he was in there,” Dennis finished her thought. “There were a few minutes, when the Beast was… otherwise occupied… that he could have started transmitting.”

“Exactly! His intent wasn’t _actually_ to have you go to Osaka Tower. He wanted everyone to see the showdown between you and Dunn, right there in front of the Hospital. From every angle. Proof of three people with superhuman powers, not people with delusions.”

“He did seem to like his comic-book comparisons… I can see that he forced us into the fight. But why isn’t it in the news?” Dennis asked.

“Raven Hill must be blocking it. Or trying to discredit it. Which seems like an over-reach for a simple mental health institution.”

“Which brings us back to Dr Staple. If the Beast didn’t do it, then…”

Casey shuddered. “Maybe she was being punished for losing you, and letting the video footage get out there. How awful.” 

They sat in horrified silence for a while, trying to see a way out of their reasoning, but finding nothing.

Dennis finally said, “This means we’re in bigger trouble than we thought. It’s not just the police, or Dunn, looking for us. It’s the people who controlled Dr Staple. And we already know they would commit murder.”

Casey worried at her lip, but tried not to let her anxiety show in her voice as she replied, “It just means we need to be more careful.”

*

*

*

Joseph Dunn sat back in his old office chair, the tired hinges squeaking in protest. He’d looked as far into the records of Dr Staple’s death as he’d dared, but he wasn’t a hacker by trade. So far he’d found nothing to contradict the official line.

It would be so easy to agree. It would be so easy to blame Kevin Crumb and his Horde of dangerous personalities.

But Casey didn’t seem so sure. They’d barely spoken, but from what he’d read after her escape from the zoo hit the headlines, she was one tough girl. And she wouldn’t be taken for a fool.

The very fact that she came back to Raven Hill that fateful morning was enough to give him pause. Who would run straight back into the line of fire like that, unless there was someone worth dying for? Did she know something about Kevin and his personalities that the rest of them could only guess at?

His dad came in from the showroom, grumbling at some customer or another. They’d had a steady stream of curious citizens who didn’t buy anything, but stared at David like they were waiting for him to throw a table through a brick wall.

Which he could, of course. And if they kept bothering him, they may even get to see it, albeit a bit closer than they would prefer.

“Joe, any news?” he asked, peering over his shoulder at the monitors.

“Here and there. A lot of Horde sightings, probably false. No forensic report on Dr Staple yet, or maybe I just can’t get to it.”

“Any more missing girls?”

“A few, possibly runaways. But no one taken off the street, and no one fitting the location profile.”

David frowned. “Maybe he has left Philly. Heard from what’s-her-name again?”

“Casey. And no, I haven’t. The number she called on was blocked, and I didn’t get any signs of her location. She didn’t turn up to school this morning, though.”

"Are you worried?"

He shrugged. "It's out of my hands. I just hope she's still okay."

David clapped his hand on Joseph’s shoulder, gentle despite his superhuman strength. “Keep up the good work, nerd. I’ll hit the streets as soon as you say the word.”

Joseph rolled his eyes. “You still have the tracking anklet on, dad. Unless it’s an emergency, you need to lay low.”

“I’m trying, but those rubberneckers out there are giving me itchy feet. At the first sign of trouble, you call me, okay?”

Joseph nodded, and went back to his sleuthing, wondering just what kind of trouble might be around the corner.

*


	5. The Lookout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No content warnings for this chapter, but I would highly recommend you pay close attention to the last scene... it's a doozy.
> 
> x Rhapsody

Dennis and Casey mainly drove in silence through the backroads of Pennsylvania and Maryland. It was truly beautiful scenery, with sleepy little townships dotted along the way, advertising fishing bait and farm-fresh eggs and milk.

They bought two cheap flip-phones at a corner store with some pre-paid credit, and memorised the numbers, so they would always be able to contact each other if they were separated. Casey felt a little less adrift once she could browse some of the internet, but she knew better than to look at any of her old social media accounts, just in case they were being tracked.

She bookmarked the news stories on Dr Staple, but there was no more information than they’d seen in the morning paper. She looked up the Overseer as well, who was now officially identified as David Dunn; he was apparently out on bail. There were no more reports of his vigilante activity, but the forums seemed intent on finding out more about his past. If the train accident hadn’t been enough, they seemed to be looking for the stereotypical moment that he was exposed to toxic nuclear waste, to explain his ‘powers’. Some of them even speculated, horrifically, that proximity to a radioactive David Dunn had given his wife terminal leukaemia. Joseph would be rightfully pissed if he saw that.

Some people really did read too many comics… but she recalled the chill that had gone up her spine once she’d seen the panel of the villain ripping the iron bars apart, just like she’d seen the Beast do. These stories possibly had some basis in reality, just as Mr Glass had said. It was still wise to take it with a pinch of salt; for one thing, she wasn’t feeling very much like a side-kick. She was just holding it together.

They stopped to stretch their legs in a little road-side park, overlooking a valley, a mixture of evergreens and skeletal trees, holding their breath for the real snows to come. Casey buried her nose as best she could in the dark red woollen scarf she’d bought herself at the mall, and walked around the small park aimlessly.

She made her way to the edge, and eventually she heard Dennis come up beside her.

Feeling bold, Casey reached out to link her arm in his, gradually relaxing into the warmth of his side. Their hands brushed, and she counted it as a personal victory when he didn’t pull away; she could feel rough callouses from his work at the zoo on the pads of his fingers. Neither of them were wearing gloves, and Casey could already feel the very tips of her fingers losing sensation.

“Your feet and your hands get cold first, out here,” Casey murmured, remembering her father’s sage wisdom, with the familiar ache of missing him.

“Do you need to get back in the car?” he asked, concerned. She shook her head, and squeezed his hand. He barely twitched in response, but it was there.

“We could just keep driving, you know,” Casey said suddenly. “We don’t need to go to Baltimore. Find a campervan, go where we like, find somewhere we want to stay.”

Dennis frowned. “What kind of life is that?”

“One where we’re free.”

He shook his head. “Not until I know that I’m safe. Not until I know for sure that the Beast can be contained. I couldn’t… do you really think that you could sleep easy, knowing that a hungry predator was in the next room?”

Casey sighed. “I know what that’s like. Believe me, being with you is nothing like it.”

“I didn’t mean…” His eyes fluttered closed. “You can’t want this, Casey. You don’t…”

“You have no idea what I want. Or maybe you know exactly what I want, but you’re too afraid to admit it,” she said simply. “But it’s okay, Dennis. I’m not going anywhere.”

He couldn’t reply. In one impulsive movement, he pulled her into a hug, letting his hands press against her waist, and she nestled her head in the crook of his neck.

She let her eyes close, so she could pay attention to the beating of his heart, and his slightly too fast inhalations.

“Doesn’t it feel good?” she whispered. “Can’t you let yourself have some joy, knowing that it does the same for me?”

He twitched under her wandering hands, now pressing against his back, but didn’t withdraw.

“What I want, Casey, is not always what’s best for me,” he said gravely.

After what seemed like an age, Casey lifted her head to look into his eyes. They were shining behind the lenses of his glasses, but she could still see the battle raging inside of him.

“Whatever happens, however long it takes,” she promised, and went up on her tip-toes to leave a chaste kiss on his cheek. He looked surprised, but didn’t protest.

They walked back to the car, hand-in-hand, only letting go once he escorted her to her seat, like a gentleman.

Dennis stood outside the car for a minute or two before getting into the driver’s side, and the only indication that he didn’t have full control of his defences was in the way his hands shook as adjusted the heating.

Casey studiously didn’t stare at him, instead looking out the window at the roadside scenery rushing by. She did wonder if she’d gone too far, pushed him out of his comfort zone. He’d always been so hard, so unyielding. Was she kidding herself, that he was capable of affection?

But then she remembered how he’d responded to her, how touch-starved he’d seemed, and the wonder in his eyes when she kissed him… she couldn’t begin to describe how much longing she’d felt coming from him.

She rubbed her fingers until the feeling came back, and imagined that he was warming them with gentle caresses.

It may take time, but she was patient. She hoped with everything she had left that Dennis would learn to let her in.

*

*

*

Casey hadn’t been to Baltimore since she was a kid. She’d gone with her dad and uncle to a funeral for an elderly great-aunt she’d never met. Her father had forced her to wear a scratchy velvet dress, borrowed from a neighbour. She had pulled at the lace collar so much that it was basically ruined by the time they went home. He didn’t try to put her in a dress again, after that.

She didn’t recognise anything as they drove through the outskirts of the city, abandoning the stolen car near a wrecker’s yard. They packed up their things into two rucksacks. Casey was able to navigate them on foot to the hotel that Dennis had identified, using the street map she’d bought at the gas station. Dennis assured her that the hotel was the closest one to Dr Whittington’s clinic that didn’t have terrible reviews online.

She smirked, knowing that he was mainly looking at the cleanliness ratings, and not whether or not it had a pool or a bar.

They decided to let Barry check-in, paying for the room in cash, and charming the older woman at the reception desk with his trademark warmth and humour. Casey shadowed a large family who’d come to Baltimore for a wedding, and slipped away to join Barry in their double room. The furniture was relatively modern, just a bit worn, and the towels were fluffy and warmed on the rack. They had a tiny balcony, but in this climate, it looked like it wasn’t frequently used.

“Home sweet home,” Barry announced with his trademark optimism, taking Casey’s coat and hanging it up in the wardrobe next to his. “Bernice at reception recommended a lovely Indian place that delivers, if we’re hungry for dinner.”

Casey smiled. “Sounds great.”

“But how are _you,_ honey? It’s been a while since we talked,” he said, looking directly in her eyes, in the way that Dennis was afraid to do.

“It has been. But Dennis has been taking good care of me, I promise.”

Barry huffed. “I’m sure you’re putting up with a lot. He can be so obtuse sometimes. It’s like talking to a brick wall.”

Casey hummed in agreement. “I guess he’s not used to communicating with other people.”

“It’s not only that, although it plays a large part… it’s the way that Patricia has broken him down. She made him believe that he could only be in the Light and be useful to Kevin if he was ruthless, a slave to the Beast. That kind of conditioning doesn’t go away overnight.”

Once again, Barry had demonstrated that he was one of the more well-adjusted alters.

“You’re saying that he doesn’t allow himself to be open because… it would look like he wasn’t protecting Kevin, if he was only thinking of himself?”

“Bingo. I think Patricia does feel some guilt for her part in that, but as it resulted in the Beast’s emergence, she thought that it must have been worth the effort,” Barry said sadly. “I wonder if she knows how much of her behaviour is borrowed from Kevin’s mother. Not the abuse, dear me, just the constant reprimands.”

Casey winced. She knew that kind of negativity, and knew the impact that it would have, even on someone who looked as tough as Dennis.

“Thanks for the insight, Barry. I don’t know how much you’ve been seeing over the past few days, but Dennis and I are… kind of at an impasse, when it comes to how we see each other.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “I _did_ suspect something… would you like my advice?”

She nodded eagerly.

“Keep talking. Keep being honest. And whatever he does, if he begins to lash out at you or frighten you, tell him to back the fuck off. He needs to be reminded of your boundaries.”

She shivered. It had been in the back of her mind, the knowledge that Dennis had been so ruthless and cold once, that he had been the one to leer at Marcia, to hit her, to ask her to dance for him. He seemed worlds apart from that now, but the threat was still there.

“Thanks, Barry. I’ll need some time to think about what you’ve said,” she replied softly.

“You go ahead, baby girl. Tell you what, take the first shower. I find that always clears my head.” He stepped forward and pecked her affectionately on the forehead. “Take your time in there!”

Casey smiled and did as he suggested, grabbing some comfortable clothes and toiletries. She ended up almost groaning out loud at the relief of the hot water streaming down her back. She was sure that if she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop making noises of appreciation that would be otherwise embarrassing to hear. She used the hotel lotions liberally, and came out smelling of artificial lavender.

When she returned, still rubbing her wet hair with the hotel towel, Hedwig was bouncing on one of the beds.

“Hi, Hedwig,” she said with a smile. “Having fun?”

“Heck yeah! We should order room service and watch cartoons,” he said, flopping down on the now-messy covers of the bed.

“I’m not sure Dennis would approve of that,” Casey warned, sitting on the edge of the other bed. “Besides, they often ask for a credit card.”

“Spoilsport,” Hedwig teased. “Anyway, we’ll need to hang out later. Dennis wants the Light.”

He stopped bouncing, and Dennis emerged, already looking cross. “That kid,” he sighed, looking mournfully at the rumpled bedspread.

“I can take that one, if it bothers you,” Casey offered.

“I’ll just… fix it, thanks,” Dennis said, looking away from her to busily straighten everything out. Casey finished fussing with the towel and returned it to its rack, leaving the rest of her dark hair to air-dry.

Dennis finished neatening the bed, and stared at Casey intently. He seemed transfixed by the way that her hair fell in heavy curtains. Casey blushed, and pulled her cardigan closer around her as she sat on the edge of her bed.

“Is Dr Whittington still practicing?” Casey asked, turning her mind to their task.

“From what I could gather, he’s not taking new patients. He still sees some regulars, but the rest of the time he’s doing research,” Dennis replied. He mirrored her pose and sat on the other bed, but folded his arms.

“I’ve been thinking about how we should approach this. He’s likely to just call the Police if he sees any of you,” Casey began.

Dennis frowned. “I was hoping that Barry would be able to get through to him, before that happens. If we come asking for help, he should do it.”

“Not everyone is as nice as Dr Fletcher,” Casey reminded him sadly. “He would _know_ that it’s a security risk, especially after everything that’s happened.”

“Are you suggesting that you go instead? Because I won’t allow it,” Dennis said bluntly.

Casey’s eyes narrowed dangerously. She recalled what Barry had said about boundaries, and knew she had to stand her ground. “First of all, you don’t _allow_ me to do anything. Let’s get that out of the way. Secondly, I’m not a wanted criminal, and he has no reason to think that I’m travelling with you, if he even recognises me. To him, I’m just a victim of someone with one violent personality, looking for answers. And thirdly, and this is the most important—we’re in this together. You can’t expect me to be sitting on the sidelines for the rest of our lives. You have to trust me to do the right thing!”

He looked pretty uncomfortable once she’d finished her tirade. He struggled in silence with making a decision, before he said, “You’ll need to take your phone with you, keep me on speed-dial. If anything goes wrong, I’ll be waiting nearby. If Dr Whittington wants to meet with the Beast, we’ll find a neutral location, and you _won’t_ be there.”

“Agreed,” she said, relieved that her arguments had worked. She didn’t want him getting into more trouble, or getting tracked to Baltimore by the people responsible for what went down at Raven Hill.

They agreed that there was no time to waste, so Casey prepared to see Dr Whittington that afternoon. She was pretty nervous, especially now that there were more people out on the streets and she was afraid that they would be recognised.

Dennis briefed her on the extent of Dr Whittington’s work on DID, and where he might be likely to be persuaded to take on Kevin as a client. Casey listened attentively, noting that Dennis’ meticulous nature had extended to his research. He also seemed to have an eidetic memory, especially for dates and names. She privately admitted to herself that his laser-focus was attractive, in that it was so different from most of the guys her age.

She took only her phone and some cash, and dressed neatly in the clothes she’d been wearing at school on Friday; it seemed so long ago, although it was only Monday. They prepared for the chill outside, and started walking according to Dennis’ directions. They were soon across the road from a sleek and modern two-story office block, advertising for new businesses to fill in some of the vacant spaces. Apart from Dr Whittington’s office, there was already a dental place, a travel centre, and a language school.

“I know that I can’t convince you to change the plan. But I’ll be right here if anything happens. Please be careful,” Dennis said softly, stroking her hair with one hand before realising what he was doing. She went in for another quick kiss, this time on the other cheek. She knew that Dennis would appreciate the balance.

His cheeks were redder than the cold wind could explain, and she grinned, despite her nerves. “I will be careful, I promise. I’ll see you soon.”

She checked the street for oncoming cars and crossed, feeling odd to be leaving Dennis behind. The rush of warm air from the foyer was very welcome, and she scanned the board of business listings to see that Dr Whittington’s office was on the next level. Rather than take the elevator, she took the stairs two at a time, and wanted to take some of her outer layers off as soon as she walked into the maze of well-heated corridors.

She found the door with a simple name-plate, _Dr Whittington Psychiatry_ , and knocked hesitantly.

She heard someone come to the door, take it off the security chain, and open it slowly.

“I wasn’t expecting any other appointments today, Miss…?”

“Butler. Stephanie Butler. I’m very sorry to bother you, Dr Whittington, but I had no one else to talk to, and it’s quite urgent.”

He made no sign of recognising her face, or wanting to shut the door on her, which was a good start. He looked like the quintessential academic, dressed in a drab brown suit, with sparse grey hair and small square glasses resting on a large red nose.

“I may not have time, but you can certainly come inside and book an appointment for later, if it’s an emergency,” he relented.

She followed his welcoming gesture, and walked into the ante-chamber of the practice; there were a few worn leather chairs set out as a waiting-room, and lots of books on self-improvement lining the walls. They walked straight through to a dark-wood panelled office space, which was quite dreary, as the large windows at the end of the space were covered in heavy blue curtains.

“I do apologise, I work best in the dim light,” he said worriedly, rushing over to pull the curtains open. “It reminds me of the old days, studying back at the university library, to the small hours of the morning. It also helps with some patients, who like it dark and quiet, especially for sleep therapies…”

“It’s no trouble, I’m the one who’s intruding,” Casey said politely, blinking rapidly as the afternoon sun streamed through the revealed windows.

She sat down, choosing a chair in front of his desk, which was covered in stacks of loose paper and books. It felt like seeing the headmaster; she wasn’t sure she’d want to be one of his patients. It was very different from Dr Henson’s friendly conservatory, where she’d been in recent weeks. There they’d been able to talk about the orchids he was tending, and watch the turn of the seasons outside the bubble of glass. If she wasn’t feeling like talking about herself, they would break open the bird-watchers guide, and attempt to identify the sparrows flitting about outside. They bookmarked each kind with labelled post-it notes: _red-breasted robin, seen by the conifer, by Casey Cooke and Owen Henson, 2pm on the first of December._

“Now, my dear, what can I do for you?” he asked, settling down opposite her. He briefly attempted tidying some up by putting some papers in a drawer, so he spent a while fumbling and muttering under his breath.

She forced herself to return to the present.

“Well, first of all, I’d like to offer my condolences for the death of your colleague, Dr Fletcher. It must be very hard, when someone like her is m-murdered by a patient.”

He looked bewildered. “Oh, thank you, dear! We weren’t particularly close, but our conferences together were always rewarding. She was just so devoted to her patients. The psychiatry world has lost a wonderful woman.”

“I actually met her a few times,” Casey lied. “I want to study the diagnosis and treatment of identity disorders, and I interviewed her to prepare for my college application. She recommended I volunteer at Raven Hill Memorial in Philadelphia, which I’ve been doing for just over six months.” 

“You must be a tough one, to work in a place like that,” he said, his interest piqued.

She shrugged, pretending to be touched by the compliment. “They only let us sit with the minimum-security patients, but I found it very rewarding, despite its challenges.”

“It is still a valuable experience, to know if you want to remain in the sector. So what brings you to my door, Miss Butler?”

She took a deep breath, hoping that she could gain some trust, before revealing that she was there on behalf of Kevin Crumb.

“One of Dr Fletcher’s patients is a friend of mine. He got me interested in studying mental health. He has DID, and he’s also really upset about how she died. I just want to know how to help him. He’s afraid that he might also hurt other people, knowing that someone Dr Fletcher had been treating for so long could end up doing this. I’ve also heard that you do a lot of work in suppressing undesirable personalities, which he would be interested in pursuing. I know that I can’t help him alone, but with the assistance of a widely-published expert such as yourself…”

“You flatter me. But I do believe I understand the general thrust of your inquiry.” Dr Whittington leaned forward, his eyes suddenly sharp and probing. “I will certainly help you, and your friend, if you answer me something. Just a passing curiosity, please don’t be offended, but… I believe I can make a professional assessment…”

“Please, go ahead,” Casey said, puzzled at his question.

“Tell me, Casey Cooke. I find your story to be altogether _fascinating_. Did you fuck the Beast as well, or just the other alters, in order to escape the zoo?”

Her stomach dropped. “Ex-excuse me?”

“Well, it’s a classic case of captor-bonding, you see. You allowed him to pick off the weaker girls, and then convinced him that you would join in his crusade. I’m just curious about the element of carnal intimacy that _must_ have played a part." 

She stood up and stumbled backwards, almost falling over the chair. She fumbled for the phone in her pocket.

He also stood up to stand between Casey and the door, watching her struggle with the onset of panic, his gaze both pitying and triumphant. “Both doors are locked, Miss Cooke. And the Balance Trinity is already on its way. I would recommend that you remain calm.”

*


	6. The Balance Trinity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note 1: If it seems like I’m obsessed with describing the winter weather, it’s because it’s currently 43C (109F) where I live in Australia and I can only dream of ever being cold again.
> 
> AN2: The internet hasn’t reached a consensus on what to call the black clover conspiracy group (damn M Night and his need for secrecy!), so I went ahead and made up a whole bunch of stuff.
> 
> AN3: A few people have been asking for my final say on the end pairings. I feel that it would spoil the suspense of the arc, but I can confirm that in my head-canon, Barry is bisexual, but not into Casey.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for your support and comments, it fuels the fire! <3 Rhapsody

She opened the phone behind her back and pressed DIAL, Dennis’ number already typed. She prayed that the doctor hadn’t seen her do it, but he had briefly turned away from her to pull out the iPad he’d hidden in the top drawer to look at an incoming message. He’d likely already contacted them, as soon as they’d sat down… she felt like an absolute fool. Now she had to make the best of the situation, and that meant getting information.

“The Balance Trinity?” she stammered, trying to get her head around the name. “Are they the ones who were at Raven Hill with Dr Staple? 

He put the iPad down. “Yes, Miss Cooke. You’re quite a clever girl, aren’t you? Although I suspect that it was Mr Glass who opened the Pandora’s Box first, so to speak. You are merely following his lead.”

“Why are they doing this?” she asked, backing away as Dr Whittington’s sharp gaze followed her across the room. She leaned back against the shelving, and as quietly as she could, put the phone down. “Are you one of them?”

“I’m sure that the Balance Keepers will explain it all to you very soon. It’s really not an unreasonable way of managing things. We maintain the survival of civilisation, above all. Dr Staple was one of our best and brightest; her success rate in suppressing dangerous individuals… simply extraordinary. It’s truly a shame that she lost her edge. She severely underestimated Elijah, and paid the price for her failure.”

Casey had so many questions fighting to be asked (not to mention a few less than complimentary thing to say to the creep), but she forced herself to keep him talking. “What will the Trinity do with me? I have no powers.”

He smiled indulgently. “Oh, I’m sure they will treat you as an honoured guest. It’s not your fault you were taken in by the Horde, and once you’ve had some time away, I’m sure you’ll be glad to start over, far away from the likes of Kevin Crumb.”

She was still hoping for an escape. She glanced at the windows, just for a split second, and he smirked. “Don’t even think about it. Suicide-proof, of course. And even from one floor up, the injuries can be quite severe.”

On a whim, she grabbed a large vase from the shelf. He looked a bit more worried once he saw her weighing it, like a pitcher about to deliver a fast-ball. She had half a mind to throw it at him, rather than at the glass.

There was a _crash_ as the outer door was torn off its hinges.

She took aim, and threw the vase with a shout of effort, but the toughened glass absorbed most of the impact, leaving only a hair-thin crack, and shattering the vase to porcelain shards and dust. Her heart sank.

She was out of time, and out of options.

“I won’t let you kill him,” she hissed vehemently, even as she heard footsteps in the waiting room. “The Horde is far away from here, and he’s _way_ too smart to come for me now.”

“What a pretty speech,” Dr Whittington said idly, strolling over to unlock the inner door. She noticed a small tattoo of a clover on his wrist, which seemed at odds with his professional demeanour. “But you’re assuming that the Beast would think strategically, like a human. But if he’s an animal, he will certainly come for his mate, isn’t that so?”

The door unlocked with a click, and four men in black full-body armour stormed in. She resisted the strong urge she had to fight back, knowing that it would only get her hurt. She practically went limp as they searched her pockets and patted her down; they confiscated her cash, but didn’t see the phone sitting on the shelf.

She was startled to see the same tattoo on one of their wrists as they reached out to put heavy restraints on her wrists, and she basically yelled, “The Balance Trinity all have that clover tattoo on their wrists, do they?”

Dr Whittington jumped. “Why are you… _wait!_ Where’s her phone? She must have one, she’s communicating with someone!”

They quickly found the device on the shelf, and after looking at the number she’d been connected to, pressed END and placed it in a plastic evidence bag.

She was truly alone now. They tightened the restraints behind her back until her wrists throbbed, and put a black bag over her head. The last thing she saw was Dr Whittington studying her, like a fascinating specimen, displaying no sign of concern for her fate.

One of the men finally spoke harshly as he began marching her away. “Don’t be any trouble for us, girl, or we’ll make you be quiet.”

_Shush, Casey. You be good for me, or else…_

Her world became a mix of terrifying sensations. Her panicked breath became hot on the inside of the thick black hood. She stumbled and twisted her ankle as they led her outside, turning right instead of left, and taking a different set of stairs down. She could hear water dripping, and could smell rotting food and car exhaust.

She complied with their harsh tugs and orders, but as they peeled off and she heard some engines start, she knew that it was the last chance she had to leave a trail. She worried at one of the knots on her silk-cord bracelets, even though her skin chafed against the handcuffs, until the bracelet was wide enough to slip to the ground unnoticed. At least, she hoped it was unnoticed. She had no idea if anyone had seen her desperate attempt to leave a trace, and simply picked it up.

She was finally half-thrown into the back of a van, her shoulder jarring painfully against the metal floor.

Someone climbed in with her and the doors slammed shut. The man made no attempt to talk to her, or even help her sit in a position that meant she wasn’t being thrown like a ragdoll every time the van went around a corner. She tried to track their directions, but she was so disoriented and it was so far, that she eventually gave up. She braced herself against a corner and struggled to control her panicked breathing. She waited for the man to give any sign that he was going to touch her, ensuring that she was ready to strike out if needed. _Never again._

The hood was damp with her sweat and tears by the time she heard the engine turn off.

She was again half-dragged, and she thought that they must be inside somewhere, from the echoes of metal doors and scuffing boots on concrete. She heard electronic keypads beeping, and once an announcement over a PA system.

They ended up in a cell, where they pulled her hood off; she winced as some strands of her hair went with it. They left her alone, and she watched the heavy metal door of her prison swing shut with a thud.

Her wrists ached in the restraints, but she tried to ignore the pain as she looked around. Kevin’s room at Raven Hill had been a palace in comparison. It was a concrete cube, with a kind of squat-toilet and tap in the corner, and a thin futon on the other side. A single strip of halogen light hummed on the ceiling, and a small black sphere in the corner of the roof housed a security camera. The door was an intimidating slab of metal; it had only a tiny observation window, and no handle or key-pad to show that it could be opened from the inside.

She scooted over to the futon, and wondered just how she was going to get out. She both hoped that the Horde would come to save her, but also feared what the Balance Trinity would do to him.

She thought of Dennis, still standing on the street where she’d left him, and missed him with a physical ache.

*

*

*

Dennis stared intently at the reflective windows of the offices across the street, and felt entirely powerless. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

His phone buzzed, and he answered it immediately. “Casey?”

There was a static sound, the rustling of cloth, and then he started picking up a few words.

“Casey…?”

Once he realised what he was hearing, his heart started pumping.

_“The Balance Trinity? Are they the ones who were at Raven Hill with Dr Staple?”_

He barely stopped himself from running headlong into the building, as he saw a black SUV stop by the kerb. Two men got out and stood by the entrance to the office block, casually smoking cigarettes.

They couldn’t quite hide their rigid military bearing, or the bulge of their holsters under their winter coats.

Cursing silently, he started walking rapidly down the side-street, praying that they were still setting up a perimeter, and he could still find a way to get inside if he acted quickly.

The phone was still glued to his ear, and with every passing moment, he heard Casey’s desperation rise. _“I won’t let you kill him-”_

Checking the surroundings, Dennis slipped into the shadows, and found the exterior door to the plant room. He put all of his weight onto it, but it didn’t budge; he tried again, and again, relentless like a battering ram, but realised that it was useless.

“Alright, Beast,” Dennis hissed, rolling his aching shoulder. “I paved the way for you to come into this world, and now I need you.”

_“Do the Balance Trinity all have that clover tattoo on their wrists, then- where’s her phone, she must have one, she’s communicating with someone-”_

The line went dead, and he heard nothing but his pulse pounding in the silence.

He inhaled and prepared for the thrill of power and certainty that preceded the Beast’s coming.

Nothing happened.

He summoned Kevin’s pain. _Kevin watched Clarence Wendell Crumb pull away from the train station, and felt his mother’s arm gripping him all too tight. He sat under the bed as his mother ranted and swiped at him. He realized that his father had been murdered by Mr Glass, and felt the righteous victory as he punched him in the sternum and felt his bones crumple._

He felt all that pain and more, rushing over him like a wave, but no one emerged triumphantly from underneath.

“Patricia, help me,” he groaned, and she came to the Light, looking nothing like her usually composed self.

“He can’t hear our call. The Beast is… Dennis, what have you done?”

Dennis wrenched control back and started running, always scanning his surroundings for more suspicious people and cars. He tried every Staff Only and utility door he could see, until he came upon the loading dock.

It reeked of burnt rubber. On the loading ramp, there was a strap of dark green fabric. When he picked it up and pressed it to his nose, it smelled faintly of lavender.

He dropped to his knees, heedless of the filthy ground, and screamed.

*

*

*

Casey estimated that she’d only been in her cell for a few hours when she heard the scraping of the door being opened.

“Oh, my! This simply won’t do,” A woman tutted in disapproval, her precise British accent uncannily like Mary Poppins. “Casey here is our guest! You, untie her. I’ll be escorting her to more _appropriate_ accommodations.”

Casey’s arms were numb to the touch when a nameless guard took off her manacles and hauled her to her feet.

“Half-frozen, half-starved… honestly, gentlemen, you know better,” the woman admonished them. “Let her out now!”

_Spit spot,_ Casey thought hysterically, as she was stopped before the woman.

She brushed back a strand of Casey’s dishevelled hair. She tried to focus on the woman seemed to be full of concern for Casey’s wellbeing. She was smartly dressed, in a tight pencil skirt and soft pink cashmere sweater, complete with a string of pearls around her neck. Her pale skin was so free of blemishes that Casey couldn’t help but assume she’d had plastic surgery to get it so smooth. It was in stark contrast to her short grey hair, cut into a sharp bob.

“Follow me, dear,” she said, and Casey cautiously followed her through the maze of corridors. Her heels clicked loudly on the polished concrete floor.

“How rude, I haven’t introduced myself! I’m Sadie Prescott, and I’ve been given the privilege of looking after your every need.”

“What if I need to leave?” Casey said bluntly.

Sadie giggled, a jarringly vapid noise, considering that Casey couldn’t even think of being funny at that moment.

“Don’t be silly! You’re perfectly safe here. We can’t have you running away from home again, and you’ll be protected from the Horde in here. We have a lot to talk about, you and I.”

Casey said nothing. They walked into what looked like a hotel suite, complete with a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall and an ensuite bathroom. There was still no window, however. _I’ll have to draw one_ , Casey thought wryly, hoping that Hedwig was okay.

“Here we are! This is much more suitable,” Sadie said, shooting one last disapproving look at their escorts. “If you boys could wait outside, please.”

Casey caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the TV as she sat on the end of the bed. Her hair was a mess, and she had a streak of motor oil across her collarbone, where she’d been laying in the van. Dennis would disapprove.

“Now it’s just the two of us, I want you to be honest with me, Casey. Why did you run away from your foster family?”

Sadie looked like a well-meaning social worker. On other kids, her displays of compassion might even work. On Casey, who knew that appearances were deceiving, she wasn’t going to bite.

She shrugged. “Way too crowded. I needed some space.”

She looked concerned. “You told your foster mother that you needed to help a friend, and you weren’t coming home.”

Casey shrugged again. She could play the moody teenager for as long as it took. “I lied.”

Sadie’s voice was sugar-sweet, and managed to be incredibly condescending. “Darling, we know that you went to Dr Whittington to ask for help with Kevin and his troubles. It was so brave of you, and I know you have a good heart. But I just want you to consider how worried your foster family was about you, and how much danger you were putting yourself in! You don’t want to be attacked like the other girls, do you?”

She shrugged, and this time, she saw Sadie twitch in barely suppressed annoyance at her bad attitude. “He didn’t hurt me last time.”

“We both know that men can be _so_ much trouble. Why, no one suspected your Uncle John before you spoke up!”

Casey wanted to slap her. It was like, with that one statement, she had treated Casey’s miserable childhood like it was some one-off event. _Oh, that troublesome Uncle John. Oh, men. They sometimes do the silliest things, don’t they?_

Through gritted teeth, she replied, “So I spoke up. But I have nothing to say about Kevin, or the others.”

Sadie sighed, and patted the back of Casey’s hand like she was a misbehaving child. “You’ve had a long day, honey. Why don’t you clean yourself up, and I’ll have some food brought to you.”

Casey watched her leave, not trusting for a moment that the Balance Trinity had brought her in to help her ‘escape’ the Beast. Despite the obvious security camera, it was likely that she was also being monitored in this room, through hidden cameras and microphones. It made her skin crawl.

She looked around her prison, and considered the psychology of her experience so far.

_We don’t even know what this is yet,_ she’d said to Claire and Marcia. But she had a pretty good idea, this time. She knew what they wanted.

The heavy-handed violence, the Guantanamo-like cell, it was all meant to intimidate her. Now Sadie and the plush room were like an olive branch, the unexpected kindness. But there was always the threat: if she didn’t behave, she could easily be walked straight back down the hall and into her cell.

She didn’t really care either way, if she had a five star Jacuzzi or a dark concrete box. Just as long as she trusted in herself, and in all of Kevin’s group, everything would turn out okay.

She explored the room and found a drawer stocked with some clothes in her size, mainly long-sleeve tracksuits and jeans, but it would be enough for now. She turned on the shower and reluctantly dropped her dirty clothes in the hamper they’d provided, knowing that they were probably watching her in the bathroom as well.

The stream of water hid her tears of frustration. At least this time, she knew that someone would care that she’d been taken. The fact that it was her first kidnapper was not an irony lost on her.

*

*

*

Casey lay on the bed, and watched the clock as it clicked over from 7:59am to 8:00am. Almost immediately, there was a knock on her door, and Sadie Prescott peeked her head in, like a parent trying to get a kid up for school.

“Good morning, Casey. I hope you’re well rested.”

She hadn’t slept a wink. Despite the cloud-like softness of the bed, she had much preferred the floor of their concrete bunker in the forest.

“I want to answer some of your questions today. Shall we go out to the garden for some coffee?”

Casey blinked. She hadn’t expected to be allowed out so soon.

“Sure, that sounds okay,” she replied tentatively.

Out the door and to the right there was a small courtyard, with a little Japanese zen garden and a patio space, already set up for two people to sit and talk.

“I’m assuming you’re wondering all about the Balance Trinity,” Sadie began. “Milk and sugar?”

She held out a delicate china jug, revealing her own clover tattoo on the inside of her wrist.

“Neither, thank you,” Casey replied, serving herself some black coffee from the plunger. She tried to hide it when the scalding liquid hurt her tongue.

Sadie took her with a dash of milk and half a lump of sugar, and began. “The Trinity- not to be confused with the Triad, _goodness_ me- has been around for thousands of years. We believe in the ability of humanity to reach a kind of… utopia, where everyone is equal in strength and wisdom, and has the same opportunities to better themselves.”

_Sounds like a cult_ , Casey thought, but she nodded for Sadie to continue.

“In the pursuit of this goal, we discovered that certain people thought themselves superior, through having a unique set of abilities that meant that they were _more_ than human. They were worshipped as gods, or shunned as demons, or became powerful kings and warriors. They disturbed the balance, and we saw that our utopia was slipping away.”

She sighed. “We are not bad people, Casey. I can understand that you’ve had a rocky start with us, but I assure you that we are all very reasonable people. We do not kill unless _all_ other options have been explored. The Trinity has been living by a tri-fold principle for millennia: identify, neutralise, adapt.”

“Like the clover,” Casey interjected without thinking, caught up in the narrative she was weaving.

She winked. “Exactly! I was told that you were clever. In practically every field, amongst the grass, you will find hidden patches of clover, just as our membership is distributed throughout the world. We _identify_ those who think that they are superhuman; we _neutralise_ them, preferably by convincing them that they are simply an extraordinary human, but sometimes with detention or humane execution; and we _adapt_ , ensuring that each new generation carries on the legacy, and finds new ways to identify and neutralise our targets without compromising our moral principles.”

Casey winced when Sadie said ‘humane execution’. Noticing, Sadie said, “I know it’s upsetting to consider. But sometimes, people are too dangerous. Can you imagine if Elijah had gone back to shooting down planes and derailing trains? Or blowing up chemical installations? The death toll would be simply catastrophic. We could not allow it to continue. We tried every other method of restraint before recognising that he could not be contained.”

“When did you find out about David Dunn?” she asked curiously.

“I haven’t been much involved with his history, I’m afraid. But I believe we were aware of the scans he’d had after the train accident, and his unusually high success rate as a security guard at the stadium. It was only when the Overseer became a vigilante figure that we made the match, and thought that it was time to make our approach.”

“And… Kevin Crumb?”

Sadie smiled sadly. “What an unfortunate case. Given the many real cases of Dissociative Identity Disorder, we had no _idea_ that he could be a problem. Unfortunately, it was too late to save your friends Claire and Marcia, as well as Dr Karen Fletcher. In fact, it was your own testimony at the police station that alerted us to the fact that he possessed skills beyond that of a normal man.”

Casey felt like the coffee was curdling in her stomach. _They hadn’t known about the Beast until she told them._ Perhaps they’d have seen it in Dr Fletcher’s notes, but would have dismissed the Beast as a delusion. But with her testimony, describing the roof-crawling and the shotgun blast and the bending of the bars, she had betrayed him.

She hadn’t known what it would do at the time, but it still hurt to think that she put Kevin on their radar.

“It was a good thing you reported everything, as unbelievable as it seemed,” Sadie said, mistaking her discomfort for memories of her time in the Beast’s lair. “Who _knows_ how many more innocent girls he would have mutilated. Those four cheerleaders are safe in their homes, because we were vigilant. We were following David Dunn for some time, before he led us to the Beast.”

“I don’t understand why you’re telling me all of this,” Casey confessed, putting her cup down to clasp her hands in her lap. “If it’s so secret, why are you trusting me?”

“Another excellent question. I have convince our people to treat you as an adult, and that means full disclosure. We know you’ve been so brave, despite the ordeal you have suffered. I can’t imagine how much of a burden it must be on such young shoulders. We are pleased to offer you anything you require to heal, and continue with a normal life, including any scholarship you need for college.”

Casey waited for the catch, and it came quickly.

“Unfortunately, we also need you to be brave for just a while longer. We need to bring Kevin in for further assessment, and we believe that you can do that. It’s the only way to avoid the alternative.”

_Humane execution._

Casey had no illusions. She didn’t believe for a moment that the Trinity would actually help Kevin, expel the Beast, and send him on his merry way. He’d killed at least two of their men, back at Raven Hill. And if he’d manifested one dangerous personality, who was to say that he wouldn’t do it again? Sadie had just admitted that keeping Glass sedated wasn’t an effective solution.

“I wouldn’t even know how to get in touch with Kevin,” she lied, letting her voice tremble. “I just thought that… if I got the answers I needed from Dr Whittington about the Beast, if he wanted to see me again, I’d have a way to help Kevin.”

“So it _was_ Kevin that you connected with the strongest? The one who was also abused by a relative?” Sadie said, a little too eagerly.

She sniffed, her nose running from the cold rather than sadness, but it didn’t hurt to play up her feelings. “Kevin and Hedwig. The others scared me a bit, to be honest.”

“Yes, I can imagine. Dennis and Patricia kidnapped you to feed you to the Beast, after all.”

Casey nodded, and kept her eyes fixed on the ground.

“Well, if you think of any way you can help us get in touch with Kevin, do let me know, okay? We just want to help him. And without Mr Glass there to whisper evil things in his ear, I’m sure he’ll be able to come around to our way of thinking. Can you imagine, Kevin back to his normal life? The experience and the scientific know-how of the Balance Keepers can make it happen.”

Sadie looked at her watch. “I’m afraid I have to go. I’ll walk you back to your room.”

Casey let herself be led back to her room, which was still a locked cell despite its facilities.

“Do think about what I said, Casey. All we want is for you to have a better future, and if that means helping Kevin remove the Beast, we’re ready to make it happen.” Sadie said primly.

“I will. See you soon, Sadie,” Casey replied.

Once her jailer left, she let out all the tension and fury she had been holding. She threw herself back on the bed, thinking some strategies through in her head. She’s the hostage here, but she does seem to have some power over the situation.

She made a list in her head.

_Option one_ , accept Sadie's offer. Call Kevin and convince him that the Balance Trinity really wanted to get rid of the Beast, and leave the rest of the alters alone. He comes because they have her as a prisoner, and he’s noble like that. They kill him. They possibly kill her. They probably kill David Dunn, as they don’t need him to stand against the Beast anymore.

_Option two_ , fuck Sadie’ offer. Find a way to call Kevin and convince him to stay away. They eventually track him down, probably put David Dunn in the ring with him, and they kill them both. Then they probably kill her, to tie up all the loose ends.

_Option three_ , find a way to expose the Trinity and make it clear that she’s being held against her will. Joseph could possibly help, having already been involved in the internet’s discussions on Raven Hill, and the slowly building body of evidence that superhumans are real. But this society had been secret for thousands of years, like a strange Illuminati; they probably have connections in high places, high enough to erase Casey from existence and probably Joseph as well. Eventually, Kevin and Casey are both killed.

_Option four_ , discover some previously dormant superpower and use it to escape the Trinity before Kevin can track her down. Run forever from a mysterious international consortium. Probably both get killed, like Bonnie and Clyde. Probably get David and Joseph killed.

She groaned and rolled onto her stomach, pressing her face into the plump pillows to stifle a scream. 

It wasn’t looking good.

*

*

*

Sadie Prescott sat and smoked a cigarette in the security station, examining the cameras on Casey Cooke’s room with an air of detachment.

She knew that the girl was lying. She was very good, and it was clear how she had wormed her way out of so many situations. She was a survivor. She knew exactly what to say to appease those around her. She had even tamed the Beast, something that Sadie thought was rather poetic, in its own tragic way.

Sadie had interrogated a lot of people, and she had known from the very beginning that Casey wouldn’t crack. She had that unique combination of childish hope and adult experiences that made her extremely stubborn and protective of others. To continue like this would simply be a waste of her time.

“Alright, Pritika,” she said, turning to her assistant, who was standing in the shadows behind her, trying not to cough on the cloud of tobacco smoke. “We’re going with Plan B. Do you have her clothes?”

“Yes, Ms Prescott,” Pritika replied.

“You know what to do. Tell Jamie to do it like the one in Ottawa, not like San Jose, for Christ’s sake.”

“Of course, Ms Prescott. I’ll see to it right away.”

Pritika stepped out to make the first few calls, but not before breaking into a coughing fit.

Sadie smirked, and continued watching Casey fretting in her room. She had no idea of the plans they had for her.

*


	7. That sounds like the good guys teaming up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: thanks again to everyone for reading and giving feedback! Special shout out to Paige, Writers_Have_Their_Own_Set_of_Rules, Luisaa7, and zerousy (for guessing the nefarious plan) and to PokemonPerson27 for going above and beyond.

 

 

Dennis found himself back in the hotel room, even though he didn’t recall walking there. He was pretty sure that none of the alters had taken over—he’d just lost all sense of time.

Dr Whittington was a member of the Balance Trinity. The same organisation that brought them all to Raven Hill, the same organisation that killed Dr Staple and framed the Beast for it. An organisation that sought to destroy anyone with superhuman traits, for good or for evil. 

Right now, he felt like he deserved to die.

“They took Casey,” he whispered to the empty room, holding her discarded wristband in one fist. “They took her, and the Beast couldn’t stop them.”

He knew, underneath his crushing guilt, why the Beast hadn’t come.

The Beast had been created to protect Kevin from the realities of the world, in a way that the rest of them could only dream of. He was a solitary being, and he didn’t recognise any of their needs for allies or friends. The Beast was pleased to see that Casey was the Broken, but felt no need to commune with her. To the Beast, Casey was just some girl that some of the alters had befriended. But they didn’t really _need_ her. Not now they had the Beast.

Dennis wondered if the Beast was right, in this regard. Did Kevin and the group really need Casey? Dennis had been the one to insist that they go back for her, to take her on their fool’s errand to Baltimore. Had he been driven by his own weaknesses in asking her to come along? Was he a liability to the group?

He heard himself wheezing, completely unable to breathe or think, and he begged someone else to help him, unable to stand his own weakness.

Patricia took the Light with a painful wrench. “It’s going to be okay, Dennis,” she said shakily, stroking the front of their shirt in a calming gesture. “I think I know what we need to do.”

*

*

*

David answered the phone with his automatic greeting, meticulously honed over the last decade to the absolute minimum number of words needed to announce his business. “Dunn Security.”

“Hello, Mr Dunn,” a smooth voice responded. “I wish I could say that it’s a pleasure to be speaking with you, but I’m afraid that we haven’t always been on the best of terms.”

David immediately recognised her voice, one of the people who had responded to Dr Staple in the joint session, the woman. What was her name? Penny?

“Well, this is a surprise,” he responded cautiously. He clicked his fingers at Joseph, who was restocking a shelf, and made a few wild gestures at the phone. Joseph sprang into action, locking the front door and motioning for David to put the caller on loudspeaker.

“What can we help the Horde with? Perhaps a home security package?” David said.

Joseph froze, having assumed that it was Casey who was calling. The line wasn’t great, and they could hear cars going by in the background; perhaps she was using a payphone.

“Now is not the time for flippancy, Mr Dunn. My name is Patricia. I have been led to believe that Casey Cooke trusts your son, Joseph, with all _sorts_ of things.”

Joseph leaned in to respond, still recovering from being startled. “Hi Patricia, Joseph here. We talked a few times at Raven Hill, waiting to speak to Dr Staple. Then she called me a few days back, to let me know that the Overseer shouldn’t worry about the Beast, and that she’s okay.”

“How lovely,” Patricia said, but her low tone suggested she thought otherwise. “She seemed to think that you had some skill with tracking information online. We find ourselves in need of such assistance.”

“Why would we help you?” David asked. He felt the memory of the Beast’s hands around his throat, trying to crush him with all its strength.

“It appears that the same organisation that Dr Staple worked for is still intent on seeing both of us captured, or perhaps dead. I have information regarding that group. Is this of interest to you, Mr Dunn?”

“Are you saying that you didn’t kill Dr Staple?” Joseph said cautiously.

She huffed in frustration. “I’m _saying_ that the so-called ‘Balance Trinity’ wants to eliminate or neutralise superhumans, and Dr Staple was punished for failing to see it through at Raven Hill. I’m saying that they want _you_ , Mr Dunn, to track me down and bring me in so they can try again. I’m _saying_ that they’ve taken Casey as a hostage, and I need. Your. Help.”

“They have Casey?” Joseph said, and David shot him a warning look.

“This could be a trap,” he hissed.

But Joseph knew that he wouldn’t be able to say no. He knew that there were holes big enough in the official story about Raven Hill that Kevin and his alters could be on to something, perhaps something big. And although he’d only met Casey recently and spoken with her a handful of times, they had shared the same stubborn desire to free David and Kevin. There was something to be said about bonding under adversity.

“I’ll come, to help Casey. Where are you?”

There was a long pause, before Patricia said, “Thank you, Joseph.”

Patricia gave Joseph the name of a restaurant in Baltimore, and they organized a time to meet on the neutral ground, before disconnecting the call.

“I have a bad feeling about this, Joseph,” David said seriously. “That guy is unhinged. And if the Beast comes out… well, you’ve seen what he can do.”

“They’re threatening you, dad. They’ve taken Casey-”

“-or so Patricia says-”

“-and that means we’re all in danger,” Joseph argued. “Besides, if he really wanted us dead, he could have just stayed in Philly. Everyone knows where we work, and probably where we live. I won’t do anything stupid, I promise. I’ll be tied to a laptop the whole time.”

David grumbled, but reluctantly started helping Joseph pack up some equipment. “Take the car. Sleep in it, if you need to. Just… come home safe, alright?”

Joseph nodded seriously, knowing that after losing Audrey, he wouldn’t survive losing his only son. He couldn’t put that kind of thing into words, though. It wasn’t their style.

“I’ll call when I get there,” he replied instead.

*

*

*

Patricia exhaled slowly, letting out the tension of the call with the Dunn family. She had to admit that she was curious as to why Casey had reached out to Joseph initially, and why she hadn’t told Dennis or one of the others.

She also felt a small ember of pride, for how Casey has managed to keep a level head in Dr Whittington’s office, and pass on as much information as possible on the Balance Trinity under duress. She usually didn’t think much of young women these days, so shallow and protected; it was part of the reason she’d allowed some sacrifices to be made for the Beast, and his new world order.

Casey had proved stronger than she had anticipated. And she had the added bonus of Dennis’ approval. She had noticed the growing affection between them, first with alarm and then with quiet fascination. She never considered that Dennis might find someone who wasn’t merely catering to his less acceptable desires. Casey refused to play the victim, and refused to let Dennis think himself a perpetrator. Patricia was unsure if their involvement could be beneficial to the Horde, or whether she would break Dennis’ heart and render him less able to perform his duties to Kevin.

The most troubling thing to have emerged from recent events, however, was the withdrawal of the Beast. He was certainly still there, prowling around the edges of the room in which they waited, but he couldn’t seem to cross into the Light. Not even Hedwig could call on him, although the poor boy was also driven to distraction by Casey’s disappearance.

Patricia could feel the Beast’s hunger gnawing at the edges of the Light, but there was no impetus to feast. It worried her, that after everything they’d been through to manifest the Beast, it had become impotent at their time of need. She would have to reflect further… in the meantime, she knew that Barry and the others were keen to put preparations in place for Joseph’s arrival.

She relinquished the Light, content to watch, and wait.

*

*

*

Casey had a pretty delicious breakfast of fruit and yoghurt muesli, but it sat in her stomach like a rock as she continued to worry about what was going on outside her prison. She flicked through the TV channels, barely noting what trashy show was on before flicking to the next. They had cable, but that just meant 900 channels of crap instead of 9.

Someone had taken away her dirty clothes when she’d met with Sadie Prescott, and they hadn’t been returned. She was unsure what this meant, but she felt that it couldn’t be good.

When Sadie came in around lunch time, she was carrying herself differently. Casey didn’t know how to describe it, but she was somehow colder. She sat on the corner of the bed, primly folding her hands in her lap.

“Casey. I’m afraid I have some difficult news.”

She sat up straight, so many scenarios rushing through her mind.

“We have reason to believe that you were, in fact, calling Kevin Crumb when you visited Dr Whittington. Our IT team managed to get into your phone. We traced the SIM as well as the number you dialed to a purchase at a shop outside Baltimore, where CCTV caught both of you leaving in a stolen car. We also reviewed the surroundings of Dr Whittington’s office, and Kevin was attempting to break in when you were extracted. You said that the Horde was far away, when in fact, you came to Baltimore together.”

Casey tried not to react to the accusations, but she had to admit that it was pretty damning. She only took comfort in the fact that they hadn’t been able to capture both of them.

“You can talk to me, Casey. I’m disappointed that you lied to me, after I was so open and honest with you,” she said, keeping her voice level and low.

_I’m not upset, I’m just disappointed._ Casey had been hearing that old chestnut from teachers for years. It was rarely true.

“Is there anything you’d like to say?”

Casey turned away from Sadie’s laser-like gaze. “I did lie to you. Dennis found me in Philadelphia, and he convinced me to run away together. He wanted a favor.”

“From Dr Whittington?”

She nodded.

“Dr Whittington has already told us about the conversation you had. You said that you wanted to help Kevin suppress the undesirable personalities, so he wouldn’t hurt anyone else. Do you honestly expect me to believe that after all this effort, Kevin and his alters would want to stop the Beast?”

Sadie tutted as Casey remained silent. “I really thought better of you, Casey. You’re enabling this dangerous person, because one or more of his personalities are friendly towards you. It’s really concerning, for your wellbeing and for his.”

She stood up and brushed invisible lint from her skirt. “We have taken your thoughts into consideration, as well as recognizing that the Balance Keepers do not dole out death sentences lightly. We have devised a scenario in which we can prove whether or not the Beast will remain suppressed, or if he remains a danger to the balance. If the Beast emerges, we will have no choice in the matter.”

Casey felt her blood run cold. “What kind of… scenario?”

Sadie walked to the door, and sharply knocked once to be let out. She looked over her shoulder at Casey, and with her parting words, sent a shock through the prisoner.

“We staged your death, of course. If anything is likely to get the Beast enraged, it’s the thought of seeking revenge for your gruesome demise.”

The door closed behind Sadie, and she was alone again.

Casey sat in horror for only a moment before rushing to the bathroom to throw up her breakfast.

She _knew_ that she’d been right about Sadie, that duplicitous bitch. Once she’d finished coughing and rinsed her mouth out with water, she managed to look at herself in the mirror. She was pale and shaking, but very much alive. Soon, Kevin and the others would believe that she was dead.

She honestly didn’t know whether the Balance Trinity’s trap for the Beast would work. She tried to imagine Dennis, Kevin, Hedwig, all of them, finding out that she’d been killed. Were any of them capable of calling on the Beast to seek revenge?

Only Dennis would have that kind of rage, she decided grimly. But he had been trying so, so hard to push the Beast away. Would this be the catalyst for Dennis re-joining the Horde of the faithful, now that he had failed to protect Casey by himself?

She gripped the edges of the porcelain sink with all of the force of her frustration. She needed to  _do_ something.

She washed her face one more time, and glanced over at the toilet, still holding the evidence of her distress, and a crazy idea started to unfold in her mind.

*


	8. Think, Therefore, on Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a slower chapter, but I hope you enjoy! I've also started a tumblr, split-rhapsody.tumblr.com, for all things Split/Glass and The Winter. xx Rhapsody

Barry waited for Joseph in the diner, sipping some ginger ale and winking at the waitresses and waiters alike. He’d managed to put together a decent outfit from the clothes Casey had procured for them, but he’d also resorted to borrowing her scarf for a bit of his trademark flair. Besides being an attractive burgundy, it smelled divine, and reminded him of his goal.

Barry had been the unofficial leader of the group for a long time, before the reemergence of Patricia and Dennis. He’d been perfect for their initial years of therapy with Dr Fletcher, just the right mix of warm and protective. However, Barry had to admit to himself that he wasn’t really suited to making decisions under this sort of pressure. He just wished that Dennis had come to him for help, sometimes. Maybe he wouldn’t have been so easily persuaded by Patricia to join the Horde, and do such terrible things.

But that was all in the past. For now, he had to meet with Joseph Dunn and pool their resources to find and rescue Casey. After everything she’d done for them, it was only right.

“Speak of the devil,” he murmured, as the young man came into the diner. He looked nervous, but not like he was about to bolt if someone dropped a plate.

“Over here, darling,” he called, and Joseph jerked his head around.

“Uh, hi,” he said, taking the opposite seat and perching on the very edge of it.

Maybe he _would_ bolt, the poor thing. He would have to do his best to put Joseph at ease.

“My name is Barry. I promise you, I do not endorse the Beast, nor the actions of the Horde, and I do apologize for any part I may have played in hurting your father,” He said smoothly. “So, Joseph. Tell me about yourself.”

He relaxed slightly, but didn’t move from the edge of his seat. “Well, I’ve live in Philly all my life. Went to the same school as Casey, actually. I’m helping dad in the shop for now, but I’m looking to go into IT. I’ve known about my dad’s abilities since I was a kid, and I’ve helped him evade detection for the last few years.”

Barry nodded attentively at all the right places. “I was sorry to hear that your mother passed, Joseph. While Kevin’s was not quite a maternal figure, I understand just how important they can be to the fabric of a family.”

Joseph was taken aback by his sincerity, but just murmured, “Thanks. She was an amazing person, right to the end.”

“Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?” Barry smiled, signaling a waitress to take Joseph’s drink order, and get another ginger ale for himself.

Barry briefly explained what Casey had managed to communicate to Dennis in her final moments with Dr Whittington, as he understood it, as well as all of the theories they had posited for the Balance Trinity.

Joseph looked very worried, but he seemed to believe Barry’s story. He asked a few probing questions, and Barry approved of his sharp mind.

Joseph offered some interesting information of his own. “Now that you mention it… I thought that I was having too much trouble locating the local precinct’s records of their call-out to Raven Hill that day. But it’s not that they’re buried… it’s that the Precinct wasn’t called at all.”

“Exactly. It was the Trinity that came when Dr Staple called, to lock down the entire situation. There never was any law enforcement, just hired thugs.”

At the mention of Dr Staple, Joseph frowned. “It seems ludicrous that the Trinity would kill one of their own, just over a stupid mistake.”

“From what I gather, they value their secrecy quite highly. The first video-recorded evidence of superhumans would be highly damaging to the cause. And who knows, perhaps she had failed in other ways. All I know is that the Beast did not have a hand in it, I can promise you that.”

Joseph gathered up his coat and messenger bag. “Alright, Barry. We’ll need a new base of operations, preferably somewhere close to a sketchy internet café. Know a place?”

Barry smiled. That was the best indication he’d had so far that they were in this together, and he started to feel hopeful that they’d accomplish what they were setting out to achieve. “No, but I’m sure one of the lovely staff will be able to assist, especially once I tip above and beyond.”

*

*

*

Their waitress was more than happy to recommend a nearby motel, and wrote down the directions for them. She added her cell number, and told Joseph that they should hang out some time. Both Joseph and the girl blushed, and Barry caught him smiling as they left the diner.

Joseph arranged the room for them. Barry was thankful that he was in the Light at the moment, as he knew that Dennis would be doing a deep clean of the room. It wasn’t particularly dirty, and the sheets and towels looked fresh, but even the smallest speck of dust could set Dennis off.

The first thing Joseph did was message his old friend from school, Ray. As Joseph’s skills tended towards the legal side of things, they needed some extra help to find some of the more… _sensitive_ information. Joseph knew that he’d done some hacking, mainly for fun and to test his skills, and hoped that he would be up for some more.

Ray put one condition on his assistance: a future favour from the Overseer. He wasn’t specific, but Joseph had a feeling that it involved some kind of cage-fighting betting scam. He was sure that David wouldn’t like whatever Ray had in mind, but if it helped to save Casey, he’d have to suck it up.

Ray sent them a long list of equipment they’d need to cover their tracks. Joseph and Barry split the list between them and went on a spree, ensuring they didn’t buy too much from the one store, to not appear suspicious.

Joseph thrived on the challenge as he set up the piles of electronics quickly and carefully. Barry felt at somewhat of a loose end, so fetched them some food and supplies for a few days.

When he returned, Joseph was ready to get into it. “Ray said we need to start by following the money,” he said instead of greeting Barry. “Any scrap of information we can get needs to be logged, and cross-checked.”

"Then let’s get this show on the road,” Barry grinned, cracking his knuckles.

They started with Raven Hill. It had been a government-run facility for many years, before being bought out by a private health provider. Through their banking and tax records, they could track the arrival of Dr Staple and her construction crews to prepare for their three guests.

From shell corporation to offshore accounts, from ghost directors to tax exemptions… Barry’s head was soon swimming, but Joseph was embedded. Hacking, as it turned out, was more of a hard slog than the movie with Angelina Jolie had made it out to be.

They managed to skim some records from Raven Hill. The breakthrough came when they came across a link between Dr Whittington and Dr Staple, who both had ‘consultancy’ fees paid for by the same company. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

When Barry yawned so widely his jaw cracked, he asked Joseph, “Is it okay with you if one of the others take the Light?”

Joseph frowned in confusion. “Do you need my permission?”

“No, but if we’re going to be in this together, I want you to be aware when we move the Light. Some of us can be a little… hard to handle.”

“By all means, go ahead,” Joseph said cautiously.

Barry started to sink beneath the surface of their consciousness, and it was Dennis who tapped him on the shoulder on the way to the Light.

The first thing he did was retrieve his glasses from the bedside table.

“I’m Dennis,” he introduced himself. “Thank you for your assistance, Joseph.”

Joseph flashed a small smile, despite sensing that Dennis wasn’t going to be as friendly as Barry. “Cool. Nice to meet you, Dennis.”

“I have an eidetic memory. Perhaps it can help with some of our cross-referencing,” he said.

Joseph nodded, and printed some statements for Dennis to cross-check. He was fastidious; he cleaned off the coffee table with a cloth before setting down the paper in perfectly neat piles, and tried several pens before selecting one to use. Once he was settled in and reading, he was incredibly focused.

Joseph wondered what role Dennis played in Kevin’s group. Barry had said that Dennis was the one who last saw Casey, and she was communicating with.

“Joseph, you have some security knowledge, I would assume?”

He nodded. “What have you got?”

“I found a line on the Invoice where they itemized miscellaneous expenses, including the description ‘X390’. Could that be their shorthand for the Model X390-G camera?”

“That makes a lot of sense. It’s the latest HD iteration, infra-red and night-vision enabled. I didn’t think they were on the general market yet,” Joseph mused. “I’ll keep an eye out for a link, maybe a supplier.”

Dennis nodded and returned to his reading, until he came across something else. “There were only two nurses at Raven Hill that we saw. We were only there for three days, so perhaps that is not unusual. However, the wages they have listed are astronomical.”

“Could it include the bereavement payments to their families?” Joseph asked.

Dennis flinched, and Joseph recalled too late that the Beast had killed one of the nurses.

“This document pre-dates our last day there,” he said stonily. “I would theorize that they include a budget for the medical staff brought on board to perform the operation on Mr Glass.”

Joseph nodded. “But we don’t have individual payments for them… which could mean that they were already working for the Trinity, and this was a lump sum outside of their regular duties.”

“It does not list the staff names. Perhaps we can find admission logs from the morning of Mr Glass’ planned surgery, and track them to other Trinity locations.”

“I’ll keep digging,” Joseph promised.

Hours passed, before Joseph felt that he had to make conversation, or go mad.

“Barry mentioned that you were there when Casey was taken by the Trinity,” Joseph said carefully. “That must have been distressing.”

“I have come to think of Casey as a friend. Being unable to help her was… difficult.”

“She has to have faith that you’ll come after her.”

“One of the others, perhaps. But I have not proved myself to her in this way.” Dennis frowned. “I’m assuming that Barry has not informed you of my role within the Horde.”

Joseph shivered. “Your role?”

Dennis got up to pace the room, his exact strides beating out a slow rhythm. “I was convinced that the Beast would be the only way to truly protect Kevin, given my own human weaknesses. I was tasked with… procuring… food for the coming of the Beast.”

“You’re the one who kidnapped Casey and the others,” Joseph realised with dawning horror.

“I was. I regret my part in their suffering,” he said slowly. “But I have also seen what the Beast can do, and I am in awe.”

“So if the Beast needed more sacrifices, would you do it?” Joseph asked bluntly, his anger rising.

He stopped pacing. “I cannot say. Perhaps, if there was no other way.”

“If the Beast needed Casey, would you do it?”

He immediately shook his head.

“That’s despicable,” Joseph spat. “I’m sure Casey would be ashamed. Why would it be okay to take someone else’s life, but spare hers?”

"It wouldn't be okay. But I've seen so much worse, in this world. Kevin needed protection. I found myself unable to distinguish between helping him, and harming others.”

“It seems like it’s everyone else who needs protection from you.”

Dennis flinched. “I know that I have done great wrongs. I know that I do not deserve forgiveness. However, Casey has offered it, of her own free will. I find myself unable to refuse.”

“You really care about her,” Joseph said slowly.

Dennis didn’t reply.

Joseph couldn’t even begin to understand why Casey would trust this man, but he forced himself to return to the task at hand. “We’re getting off track. If you’re finished with those, I have a few thousand pages of police transcripts from the cheerleaders and your arrest to skim through.”

Dennis accepted his punishment with only a moment of barely suppressed anger. Joseph didn’t understand, and that was to be expected. But the moment he started implying that Casey was crazy, he would defend her to the end.

Hours passed in silence, only interrupted by the tapping of Joseph’s keyboard and Dennis’ pen scratching on the documents. Eventually, Dennis could see an orange glow behind the thin curtains, signalling the dawning of a new day.

“You want some coffee?” He asked Joseph, who was blinking hard at his screen every few seconds.

He rubbed his gritty eyes ruefully. “Uh, yeah, thanks. Double shot.”

Dennis found a nearby coffee van, where the only patrons were truckers and overnight workmen. He reluctantly bought two cups of double espresso, despite a close examination the state of the inside of the van, and the hygiene habits of its customers.

He walked briskly back to the motel, relieved to be back inside the warmth.

Joseph looked up to ensure it was just Dennis returning, and happened to glance at the TV, which was on a 24 hour news channel.

He faltered once he saw Casey’s picture flashing up next to the grim presenter, the same picture they’d been using after she escaped the zoo.

“Dennis, it’s…”

Something in his tone made Dennis’ blood run ice cold. He stared at the television with flinty eyes.

It was showing some Police tape fluttering around the entrance to an alleyway, dark and covered in trash, while men in white forensic suits ducked in and out of the scene.

Joseph unmuted it.

“…who escaped Kevin Crumb and the Horde two months ago, has been found dead in downtown Baltimore. The Police have confirmed that they are treating her death as suspicious. Sources close to the investigation, speaking on the condition of anonymity, said that Miss Cooke suffered a gunshot wound amongst other injuries, rather than the crushing death of previous victims of the Horde. They are not ruling out the possibility that the Horde is responsible for the crime, as he is still at large.”

Two polystyrene cups of piping hot coffee fell from Dennis’ grip, and he didn’t even flinch as they hit the ground and splashed on him.

Joseph’s face was deathly pale, and he dropped the remote on the bed. “I’ll just… go for a walk,” he said quietly, and left Dennis alone, not even noticing that he’d left his winter coat behind as he left the motel room.

At first, Dennis didn’t seem able to react to the news. It couldn’t be _his_ Casey. She couldn’t be _dead_. He saw her only two days ago, oh so alive. She had cut out paper stars with Hedwig and kept him company through the night. She had kissed him so sweetly on both cheeks, spread across two separate occasions, bookending either end of their day. She had told him she would be patient, and promised she would be safe.

He imagined that he could see her face turn away through a fogged window, as her train accelerated away from the station, and she didn’t come back.

Dennis had no idea who had the Light next. He just didn’t want it to be him.

He didn’t want to feel this anymore.

*

*

*  
When Joseph finally came back, frozen solid and still at complete loss on what he could say to Dennis, it was Patricia who greeted him. She had cleaned up the spilled coffee and changed into looser fitting clothes.

“Dennis needs to take some time,” she said coolly. “In light of this… distressing news, we must revisit our strategy.”

Joseph blinked in surprise. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to stay.”

“These people want to hurt Kevin. They already have done, even more so, after this blow.”

“So… you want to keep looking into the Trinity? With me?”

“Well, they _are_ still looking to kill your father and myself. And I will admit that some of the most _sensitive_ of the group want to seek revenge for Casey’s death.” She cocked her head, studying him closely. “And we do make a good investigative team, do we not?”

Joseph thought about it for a moment, and secretly agreed with the group, which he suspected was led by Dennis: he also wanted to seek revenge. However Casey had died at the hands of the Trinity, it was their fault.

“Alright. Let’s get back to it,” he said faintly.

Patricia’s answering smile was positively shark-like.

Joseph suddenly felt very, very nervous for whoever got in her way.

*

*

*

That night, when Joseph had finally forced them to get some rest, Hedwig must have gained the Light. Joseph could hear him crying in his sleep, the kind of all-body sobbing that only a broken-hearted child could do.

Joseph didn’t feel much like sleeping, either. He felt like he was intruding on their grief, listening to Hedwig, but didn’t know what to do about it. On the one hand, the people who lived in Kevin’s body were entitled to have their own feelings about Casey; on the other hand, it had been Dennis and Patricia’s plan that had thrown her life into such chaos. And now, she was dead.

On the edge of finally drifting away, he heard someone else. A deep and resonant voice. “ _Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind, and makes it fearful and degenerate… think, therefore, on revenge, and cease to weep._ ”

*


	9. Clinically Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casey has a cunning plan :D
> 
> I’ve answered some questions on Tumblr, come hang out! https://split-rhapsody.tumblr.com/
> 
> CONTENT WARNING for this chapter: description of self-harm, reference to eating disorders, vomiting

 

 

Casey was thankful that her room had plenty of places to hide things. She started setting aside small pieces of her meals, particularly fresh fruit, vegetables, and meat. She told herself that it was no worse than asking Marcia to pee on herself.

Until they started to smell.

She used a lot of products in the small bathroom to mask the worst of it, but it made sleeping at night an absolute nightmare. Not that she was sleeping well, anyway. Thankfully, her detention was completely solitary. Every few days they requested that she hand her sheets and dirty clothes to someone through a hatch in the door, and new ones were provided. Food was sent and returned in the same way.

After Sadie dropped the news on Casey that she would soon be dead to the outside world, she decided to leave the news on constantly. She didn’t want to see her own obituary, but knew that it was important to see how they had ‘killed’ her.

Once the story broke, she sat up on the bed and hugged a pillow to her chest. The details of the story were shocking. Shot in the chest in a dark alley, and left to bleed to death in a puddle. She died alone and afraid, and was found by a garbage collector. Casey had to admit that they had a good plan; if she’d seen her friend killed like that, she’d want to seek revenge. She just hoped that Dennis and the others wouldn’t do something stupid, like calling on the Beast.

She wondered who else would mourn her. Probably Dr Henson, and her foster family. Joseph Dunn. Mrs Price. Even Mr Benoit, who had tried to connect with Casey after Claire’s death.

She knew that her whole plan was shaky, and she needed a lot of luck to pull it off.

She watched TV intermittently, to keep track of how long she’d been inside. She waited for Sunday to come around, hoping that the Trinity worked just like other companies, and had fewer staff on Sundays, especially on the night-shift. Hopefully, that also included upper-management like Sadie Prescott. The whole plan would be ruined if Sadie decided to come in for a surprise inspection, or even more horrifically, a _chat with just us girls_. Casey would rather be drawn and quartered.

The clock seemed to run slow that morning, but once it ticked to 7:00am, Casey put her plan into action.

She went into the bathroom and stripped down to her underwear. She turned on the shower, the hottest it would go, to get the room full of steam. She hoped that it may obscure some of the cameras she suspected were in there; she also draped her clothes and towels around the room, just in case it blocked the view.

She took a deep breath, and tried to remain focused on her goal. This wasn’t going to be easy, or pleasant. But it was the best option, under the circumstances.

Casey knew that anorexia and bulimia was a huge problem for girls her age. She had often heard girls retching in the bathroom at school, or boasting about how few calories they’d had that day. There was no denying that Casey _had_ problems, but thankfully an eating disorder wasn’t one of them.

She tried to turn her mind away from what she was now planning to do, but it was pretty hard to ignore. Piece by piece, gagging against her reflex to spit it out, she ate the old food. It didn’t take long for her stomach to recoil, but she held her nerve. God, it felt fucking awful.

Next, she turned to the shower. She felt the faucet where the hot water connected to the wall, and with some effort, ripped off the plastic knob to reveal the metal underneath. It was painful to the touch. She again screwed up her courage, and held some of her forearm to the hot metal. She hissed in pain, and when she drew her arm back, there was a painful red welt.

Perfect.

She replicated the effect over her arms, legs, back, and neck. By the time she finished, her head was swimming from the combined effects of the steam, the pain, and the nausea. Her jaw ached from gritting her teeth so hard.

To finish it off, she pressed a steaming hot cloth to her forehead and cheeks, until her skin was stinging and dry, like she had a fever.

She turned off the water and turned on the exhaust fan. She didn’t have to fake the way she stumbled out of the bathroom, feeling as terrible as she did when she had measles as a kid.

When the custodial staff came to take exchange sheets and give her breakfast one hour later, she hadn’t moved.

They knocked on the door a few times before shouting that someone was coming in, they weren’t fucking around, and she had to step back against the wall.

She forced herself to remain still.

When the guard finally came in and laid eyes on her, he immediately called for medical assistance. She felt someone pick her up and lay her on a gurney, and while she was only half-pretending to be sick, she groaned from the pain of the self-inflicted welts chafing against the bed. She was wheeled down a corridor, then another, and then through some double-doors, which she could hear needed both a key card and a six-digit passcode.

She caught the edge of a murmured conversation as she drifted in and out of awareness. She felt a blood pressure cuff being wrapped around her arm. Someone asked if she should be restrained, but as she hadn’t proved troublesome, they let her stay monitored by the nurse on night-shift and a single guard. She felt vulnerable, her eyes mainly closed, knowing that she was only in her panties and bra, so they could see the full effect of the welts. She hoped that they didn’t look self-inflicted; she had wanted them to look like hives.

She barely opened her eyes to take in her surroundings. The guard was standing off to the side, but well within the bounds of those ubiquitous green privacy curtains.

She took aim.

“I’m gonna be sick,” she groaned, and rolled violently to one side to throw up all over the guard.

He immediately cursed and jumped back, retching at the sight and the smell now covering his uniform. Casey didn’t blame him, as she continued to gag over the side railing of her bed.

“You can deal with her from here,” he snapped, already backing away to use the bathroom. “She’s too sick to stand, for Christ’s sake. I can wait outside the ward, right?”

The nurse agreed with the flick of her hand, happy to have him out from under foot.  She put on some gloves and rinsed off the worst of the vomit from Casey’s mouth with a jug of cool water and a sponge.

Now there was only one person between Casey and the end-point of her incredibly stupid plan.

Casey had already shown that she was half-aware, so she blinked lazily at the nurse and mumbled, “I don’t know what’s happening…”

“It appears you’ve caught something. A virus, possibly. I’ll need to take a cheek swab, some bloods, and check the extent of the hives.”

She seemed a kind sort of person, and she even apologized as she stuck Casey’s arm with a needle to take blood samples. She asked for Casey’s medical history, and frowned as she saw scars crisscrossing her torso, but refrained from commenting. She must see all sorts of things, not only as a medical professional, but someone involved in the Trinity, however superficially.

Now came the part that had kept Casey up all night, fretting and imagining the worst. She didn’t have a handy spray-bottle of chloroform, or a mask to protect herself from it. She hadn’t seen a discarded scalpel conveniently lying around. She’d have to improvise a way to incapacitate the nurse. She hadn’t dared take anything from the hotel room, knowing that they would probably check her person before admitting her to the ward; besides, she was only in her underwear. Not exactly many places to hide a prison shiv.

The nurse collected the vials and bits and pieces of equipment, and put them in a plastic tray. She looked at Casey for a moment, uncertain if she should leave the prisoner alone for even a second; but the bloods had to be made ready for pathology, and no one else was on shift for at least an hour. She decided to take the thick cloth and Velcro cuffs attached to the bed railings, and strap them to Casey’s wrists, before ducking out.

“I’ll be right back, so don’t try anything,” she said sternly, already dismissing the possibility that this skinny teenager in the throes of some kind of fever could possibly cause any trouble.

Casey closed her eyes and let her head roll onto the pillow, relaxing like she was drifting off to sleep.

The privacy curtains rustled, the nurse’s shoes squeaked away, and she was alone. She quickly examined the cuffs that were holding her, and with no small amount of effort, and a bit of work from her teeth, she wormed her way out of them. The nurse really was a soft touch; she hadn’t made them particularly tight, as Casey was sure the guard would have. Maybe she was new.

Pushing her musings aside, she rushed to disconnect herself from the cuff and oxygen monitor, praying that her good fortune wouldn’t run out. The machine beeped a warning, then fell silent.

She couldn't hear the nurse's steps, but she couldn't be far away. Casey knew that, as far as escape attempts went, this would be a pretty poor plan. Mr Glass had certainly done better. She was no match for the Trinity.

It was a good thing she wasn’t trying to escape. Her only priority was warning Kevin.

She peeked between the curtains to get the layout of the room. There were three medical bays, all empty of staff and patients, with an accessible bathroom open to the rest of the room. Various cabinets of equipment on castors were pushed up against the back wall, labelled with medical terminology she didn’t understand. There was the main entrance, sealed shut, and two other doors. She wasn’t sure if they were labs, or offices, or exam rooms. Maybe even a morgue, she thought grimly.

There were no phones or computers in the room, as far as she could see. She cursed silently.

She saw someone switch on a bright halogen light in one of the adjoining rooms. Ducking below the level of the glass pane set in the door, she made her way to the other one, thankful that her socks made no sound on the vinyl floor.

She reached up to try the doorknob, and to her relief, it was unlocked.

She went into the dark room, waiting for her eyes to adjust, and for a moment of sheer terror thought that there was someone in there with her.

It was just a mounted skeleton.

“Jesus Christ,” she panted, staring as the macabre sight, as her heart-rate dropped back to an acceptable level. It looked like the skeleton they used to have in the bio lab at school. Except the one at school was called Boney M, she recalled fondly.

The rest of the small room was filled with filing cabinets and archive boxes of documents, and tucked in the corner, a small table perched above a nest of wires.

She was never so relieved to see a computer in her life.

She shifted some of the cabinets across the floor to block the door, hoping that it would cause a delay once she was discovered missing. She winced when they made loud scraping noises against the floor, but it couldn’t be helped. They were incredibly heavy, and she had to summon all of her remaining strength to even move them an inch. Combined with one lying horizontally braced against the opposite wall, she hoped that it would be enough.

She dry-retched as she used all of her might to shift the cabinets. Her stomach was still rebelling at its rough treatment, and her nerves were about to get the better of her. But she had to keep going.

Once she was barricaded inside, she turned her attention to the computer. She rolled her eyes despite herself as she booted it up. The password to login was written on a post-it note on the keyboard.

Glancing at the door, praying that she had a little time left, she scanned the desktop for useful apps, noting that the internet was connected and strong. She couldn’t just use an email or a tweet, anyone could write that, and who knows where she could send it…

Skype. Perfect. With fingers flying over the keys, she dialled Dennis’ number, hoping that he hadn’t discarded the phone just yet.

One ring. Two rings.

“Come on, come on…”

She heard the nurse shout for the guard to come in, and a general commotion as they tried to open the door, and it rattled against the frame. An announcement went over the PA system, requesting backup.

Three rings.

_Fuck, fuck, come on…_

*

*

*

“Hey, Orwell. Can you hear a phone vibrating?” Joseph said suddenly, looking up from his monitor for the first time in a while.

Orwell frowned, listened intently, and then scrambled to open the wardrobe, daring to think that he wasn’t imagining that the sound was coming from his rucksack.

Joseph watched as Orwell shifted into Dennis, and he stared at the phone for a brief second before answering on loudspeaker.

*

*

*

She was about to hang up and try Dunn Security when the little phone icon went green.

_Voice chat connected. Video disabled._

“Kevin! Or Dennis, or whoever is there, it’s me,” Casey blurted, “Can you hear me?”

“…Casey?”

She sobbed in relief to hear Dennis’ whisper, so devoid of emotion, like he didn’t have the slightest hope that she would be calling him. “Yes, I’m okay.”

His voice broke as he stuttered, “You— you’re alive?”

“Dennis, listen to me. They faked it, it wasn’t real. Some Trinity bitch named Sadie Prescott wanted to provoke the Beast into seeking revenge, but you can’t, do you understand? I broke into the nurse’s office to warn you. They want to kill you, please don’t-”

She was cut off by a sudden banging on the door. Soon, she could barely hear his laboured breathing under the cacophony of the (probably many, many) security guards trying to knock down the door to the storage room.

“Dennis, did you hear me? You have to run!”

_The Beast does not run,_ she remembered, from what seemed like a lifetime ago at Raven Hill. But he had, because that’s what was best for Kevin.

“Casey, I can’t believe… I thought we’d lost you. We’ll find you, do you understand? I know that it’s probably a trap, but me and Joseph and David, we’ll find a way-”

The rest of his words were lost in a blast of noise, as someone used something large and heavy to crack the wooden door. With more reach, they started toppling the filing cabinets, and the door opened an inch. Red dots from their guns flashed over her.

“They’re almost in, Dennis. I’m so sorry, I’m so scared…”

To her shame, she started sobbing while she gripped the edges of the screen with white-knuckled desperation, like he would feel her through the connection.

“Hold on, Casey. We’re coming, we won’t let them-”

Then there was pain, and everything went black.

*

*

*

Dennis sat with his head in his hands, taking deep breaths. The crappy flip phone sat on the hotel coffee table between them. Somehow, miraculously, this innocuous piece of plastic had connected them to a different dimension.

_Casey. Alive. Scared…_

Joseph could only gape silently at the outpouring of emotion that he’d seen from Dennis, and the fierce protection that Casey had demonstrated in return.

Maybe he’d been wrong about them.

“She’s okay,” Joseph said shakily.

“For now. After this… who knows,” Dennis said softly.

“Let’s find those bastards and bring her back, okay?” Joseph said, trying and failing to hide his joy at the news. They now had a rescue mission to organise, rather than a suicidal desire to seek revenge on an ancient international secret society. It was an equally difficult task, but one that he was glad to undertake.

Dennis closed his eyes, and Joseph quickly turned away when he saw that the man was holding back tears of relief. They had a job to do.

*

*

*

When Casey came to, she felt like every inch of her body was bruised. She thought that she was possibly on the wrong end of a Taser, in that final moment, but she wasn’t quite sure. She was in a significant amount of pain, but she assumed that she didn’t had any bullet holes, which was certainly an advantage.

She became aware that she wasn’t in the gilded cage anymore. She was lying on her front, half on the futon, like she’d been dragged and dumped there. Her underwear and skin still smelled of her own sick and the cloying scent of her fevered sweat.

The PA system crackled to life from a tiny speaker, possibly near the security camera in the corner. She could barely open her eyes without feeling more nausea come over her.

Predictably, Sadie’s precise British voice resonated through the small space. “Casey, that was foolish. We gave you so many privileges, and you abused our trust.”

“Fuck you,” she croaked, but it was barely audible.

“I am going to assume that Kevin and his alters now know of your premature demise. You have given him no chance to prove to us that he can control the Beast in adverse circumstances. Through your interference, we have been left with no choice but to end this through his termination.”

She pulled herself slightly further onto the futon, wincing as her blisters stung with the contact.

Sadie must have noticed her struggle as she added, “We will also be withdrawing any medical treatment that may help your self-inflicted injuries. Perhaps the pain will be a reminder of why you should not attempt to disobey us again.”

There was a click, and Casey was left to drift in and out.

She could barely recall Dennis’ words, only the warmth of emotion that blossomed within her when he talked. However, she did remember him saying that ‘Joseph and David’ wold help get her out. She had no idea how the Dunns were involved, and couldn’t even imagine them getting along. She could only hope that they could keep each other safe. She harboured no illusions about her prospect for escape or rescue—without Mr Glass, none of them would have been able to break out of Raven Hill, and there had been two other superhumans trapped in there. She was just one girl, and they would be extra vigilant now.

Whether or not she would ever get out of here alive, it was an enormous relief to hear that he wasn’t alone, and that she had a whole team on her side. It was an unfamiliar feeling.

Exhaustion caught up with her, and she floated away.

*


	10. The Alternate Cut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Glad you're enjoying, this story has become so much more than I anticipated.
> 
> Can you believe that I have another fic brewing already? It will be a bit more light-hearted than The Winter... stay tuned!
> 
> Chapter content warning: references to child sexual abuse, non-con, brainwashing

Casey was beginning to have second thoughts about the part of the plan where she made herself actually sick. Food poisoning was a pretty terrible experience at the best of times, and lying in a concrete cell with no comforts was considerably worse.

At least she had unlimited water from the tap on the wall. She balled up some of the toilet paper and soaked it in the cool water, placing it over her forehead and using it to sponge the welts on her body. They’d served their purpose in making her look incredibly ill, but now they seemed to mock her.

The meals kept coming, but now they were like budget cafeteria lunches. Gristly meat, limp green beans, no seasoning, an under-ripe banana. She forced herself to eat everything, knowing that keeping up her strength was incredibly important.

There was no sense of time, as the halogen light on the roof never switched off or dimmed. She initially assumed that she was still being given three meals a day; but sometimes it felt like only an hour had passed between meals, and sometimes it seemed like she hadn’t been fed in days. It was fucking with her mind, and her already disturbed sleep pattern.

Passing the time became her biggest challenge. She recited all the states and their capitals. Then she tried all the countries of the world, but not knowing if she had it complete and sitting with a country on the tip of her tongue was more frustrating than anything else. She tried to remember all the books that she’d ever read, movies she’d ever seen, songs she’d ever listened to. She even resorted to the alphabet game, the center of so many school ‘bonding’ activities- name 26 animals, 26 fruits, 26 boys names, 26 girls names. She also added 26 things she’d like to have in her cell—that particular list started with Aspirin and ending with Zelda (Legend of). Given enough time, she thought randomly, and a bunch of friendly monkeys, they could write Shakespeare.

Gradually her stomach pains and sweating subsided, and her skin was spotted with the remains of the blisters, thankfully healing fairly well. She used most of her energy pacing around the small space and doing some light yoga on her futon. She wasn’t about to get ripped by doing a hundred push-ups, but she could at least ensure she could walk out of here, given the slim chance.

The break to the monotony came by complete surprise. The cell door swung open with a _clunk_ , and a young woman of possibly Indian descent stood in the doorway and coolly looked at her, up and down.

“Ms Prescott would like to see you,” she said. “We will be restraining you for the duration.”

The guard came in, on high alert, and pushed her up against the wall to frisk her bare skin. She shuddered, and wanted to yell at him that she obviously hadn’t been hiding anything in her underwear, but didn’t fight back. The woman gave her a green jumpsuit, and Casey put it on without comment. At least it wasn’t orange, like a criminal.

The guard placed her hands behind her back in metal cuffs, and gruffly said, “We will Tase you again if you try to run, do you understand?”

She nodded, trying to relax and show that she was going to be no trouble. They would be extra vigilant around her, after the stunt she pulled in the clinic. She hoped that it had been worth it.

He yanked her in front of him, and she was pushed down the corridor to the same small courtyard as her previous meeting with Sadie. It was snowing lightly, but there was an outdoor gas heater placed a few yards away from Sadie, who was already seated and sipping a hot drink.

_We could have just met inside_ , Casey thought, looking at the heater, and thinking of how much energy it was wasting. Nevertheless she was relieved to be outside again, even for a few minutes.

“Please do sit, Casey,” Sadie said neutrally. Today she was in a tailored pinstripe suit, with a large brooch of a lion on the lapel.

She did not offer Casey any refreshments.

“I’m sorry that it had to come to this, Casey. But we have rules here, and there need to be consequences.”

Casey sat in stoic silence.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

She looked up, as if deep in thought. “I’m sorry if the nurse got fired because of me. Also, fuck you.”

Sadie sighed. “No matter. We anticipate having the Horde in hand very soon, despite your intervention. What I really want to talk about is your future.”

She sounded like she was a careers guidance counselor. Casey barely resisted rolling her eyes at the display, now knowing that it was an act that Sadie enjoyed.

“The Trinity have, of course, encountered ordinary individuals who have close relationships with superhumans. They live among us, and they have families and friends. We understand that adjusting to their absence can be difficult. For your rehabilitation, we have requested that Dr Whittington visit you and make an assessment on your prospects for returning to a normal life.”

Casey recalled the way that he’d looked at her when she was taken away, like a fascinating test subject, and felt nothing but revulsion.

“He is a very busy man, but he has agreed to supervise several sessions with you. I hope that you will be more courteous to him than you have been to me.”

Casey looked straight at her and repeated, cheerily, “Fuck you.”

Sadie ignored her. “It’s all settled, then. Pritika will fetch you for your first session, tomorrow morning.”

Sadie left first, her assistant Pritika following closely.

The guard hauled Casey to her feet and escorted her back to the cell with an iron grip around her upper-arm. She was certain that it would bruise.

She found that everything in her cell had been rinsed with some sort of bleach that made her eyes water, and a small bathroom bag had been laid on her futon.

She let the guard take off her cuffs without comment, watched the metal door close behind him. She opened the bathroom bag, and luxuriated in the opportunity they had given her to brush her teeth. It was the little things, she mused, that made her feel human. Only five minutes ago, she had felt the touch of a snowflake on her skin before it melted. She relished the feeling for as long as she could before falling asleep.

*

*

*

When they next came in to take her meal tray away, they restrained her again. She was used to the routine by now, and wondered how long it would take before it was the new normal. She remembered watching the Shawshank Redemption on TV once. It had been a sad movie overall, but the part that really hit her was when the old librarian couldn’t live in the real world. _He’s been institutionalized_ , Red had explained. It had made her wonder if she could survive in a fantasy life away from Uncle John, or if she would always return to him. She certainly didn’t have that much experience of the world outside of her walls, until she met the Horde.

Pritika watched the guards go through the security protocols with only half her attention, the other half devoted to her phone. She waited impatiently for them to be done before they escorted Casey to the designated place.

Dr Whittington had organized to meet her in a sort of interrogation room, although there didn’t appear to be the kind of one-way-mirror like the ones she saw in cop shows. There was a brushed aluminum table and two metal chairs, all fused to the floor. There was also a metal ring on the table that the guard threaded her cuffs through. She didn’t consider herself short, but once her hands were secured on the table, she realized that she would have to sit on the very edge of the seat. It was extremely uncomfortable. There was also a plastic jug of water with two plastic cups, already topped up with one cup placed barely in her reach, just in case she would get a dry throat. She doubted it, as she didn’t plan to talk at all.

She sat alone for a few minutes before Dr Whittington entered. He placed a large sheaf of documents on the table. He pulled off his long black overcoat and placed it carefully over the back of his chair, revealing a charcoal suit and a truly hideous paisley tie. She wondered if he’d bought it himself, or if a family member really hated him.

“Miss Cooke. It’s good to see that you’re being treated well here,” he said without preamble.

She shrugged. Can’t complain. Well, could complain, but it wouldn’t do any good.

“Of course, given your history, you may not have an accurate handle on what ‘well-treated’ means,” he said bluntly.

She narrowed her eyes at his loaded comment, and decided to employ the same strategy that she did with Sadie Prescott. “Fuck you.”

He smirked, and settled himself in the metal chair opposite her. “I was informed that you may be somewhat combative. No matter; I have other ways to help you. And you may want to start being more cooperative with me—I had to pull a lot of strings to ensure you would be cared for, after your last _adventure_.”

She had a really, really bad feeling about that. He obviously wanted her to ask what kind of strings, but she held back. To distract herself, she took a sip of the water. It failed to wash away the bitter taste in her mouth, the now-familiar taste of fear and adrenalin.

He pulled a fountain pen out of his coat pocket, opened the folio in front of him, and smiled at her. It didn’t reach his eyes, which were huge behind the lenses of his glasses. “Let’s start at the beginning.”

Casey tried her best to tune him out. But after so long without stimulation, her brain ached to hear a voice, no matter the topic of conversation. He could also be a source of information, maybe on what was going on outside her cell.

“I find that many of my patients can trace their personal growth and development to key events in their lives. My colleague Dr Ellie Staple was of the same opinion. I have endeavored, now that you are my patient, to discover these events for myself.”

He flicked over the page. “Your previous physician, Dr Henson, kept extensive notes.”

Casey scowled. She was certain that he wouldn’t have relinquished the notes willingly, and she hated Dr Whittington for betraying the trust she’d had with Dr Henson, however brief it was.

“We differ on several of the conclusions, however, so let’s review what you covered.”

He cleared his throat, as though he was about to launch into a theatrical monologue. “Born into a working-class Philadelphia family, your mother died of a rare genetic disorder when you were two, leaving your father as your sole caregiver. You were close to him, and he treated you like a son as much as a daughter.”

Casey snorted despite herself. Just because she went hunting with her dad, didn’t make her a _son_. Her dad was perfectly willing to teach a _girl_ how to hunt, and be a badass while she did.

Dr Whittington raised an eyebrow before continuing. “You displayed an interest and aptitude in outdoor sports like hunting, as well as natural sciences. We approximate that your Uncle John started abusing you at around age five, however, you profess that you do not recall the very first time he touched you inappropriately.”

_That’s because it had all seemed normal. It seemed like something that uncles do with their nieces. Until, one day, it wasn’t._

“At the age of seven, on a family hunting trip, you loaded a shotgun and threatened to discharge it at your Uncle. You did not follow through. After this incident your Uncle escalated the forms and frequency of the abuse.”

She resolutely looked away, and studied the way the lights in the room shone on the aluminum table.

“Your father died soon after, chopping wood in the backyard of your home. A heart attack. You were there, watching him struggle to breathe, and you helped him call the ambulance. By the time they arrived he was already dead.”

_Your feet and your hands get cold first, out here,_ he had said, but she had been pressing her little cheek to his when it went cold.

“You were placed into the custody of your Uncle and moved to his residence. He sold your childhood home and many of your father’s possessions, in order to take you in.”

_In order to drink and gamble, more like._

“You were a quiet student, underachieving, but consistent. You didn’t seem to make many close friends, although you were often included in their weekend activities.”

_You go have fun with the girls, Casey-bear. I’ll be right here when you get back._

“You were also evasive with Dr Henson on when he first raped you, once you became a teenager. I suspect that this is more a result of trauma through memory loss, rather than an unwillingness to speak about your experiences.”

_Dr Henson had told her that pinning down the first time wasn’t important: what was important was how it made her feel today. Dwelling on the past wasn’t useful. To try to bring back the memory made her a masochist, and her doctor a sadist._

Her head started to feel strange, almost like it was coming loose. _Make it stop, make it stop,_ she was saying to John, but she also wanted to tell the psychiatrist in front of her to stop rubbing salt in the wounds.

“And we come to the crux of the matter. The reason you are here. Earlier this year you and two of your school friends were kidnapped by Kevin Wendell Crumb, in order to become food for the Beast.”

His voice was smooth, like the narrator on a documentary, and she could almost feel the memories rising to the surface of her mind. “He waited for the three of you. He chloroformed you. Trapped you in the basement of the zoo complex where he worked. You soon realized that the man who kidnapped you was not an ordinary sexual predator, but suffered from a multiple personality disorder. After several attempts were made to leave, and Dr Fletcher proved ineffective in stopping Kevin’s alters from completing the plan, the Horde summoned the Beast. He killed Claire and Marcia by ripping out their innards with his teeth.”

_She could still hear the sound of the Beast feasting, as she locked him in the storage closet with Claire’s limp body, knowing that the tiny metal slide bolt was not enough to stop his advance._

“Aided by a note left by Dr Fletcher, you were able to return Kevin to his rightful place, for a time. You were also able to escape the Beast, for a time. But even with a shotgun and a head start, he found you.”

_Her head slammed into the ground as he caught up to her, and she felt the hot pain of his bite slicing through her calf. When she managed to limp away, she knew it was her last stand._

“But then something seemingly _miraculous_ happened. The Beast, upon seeing the evidence of the abuse you had suffered in your short life, decided that you were one of his Horde, someone who had been damaged and had no illusions about the ability of the world to inflict pain. He left you there.”

_Rejoice, he had said, and the tears on her face were of relief and confusion._

Real tears spilled from her eyes, and she tried to bring her hands to her face to wipe them off. When she found her hands were still in restraints, the spell was broken. She returned to the present, and saw that he looked smug to have gained an emotional reaction.

“This is what you _told_ Dr Henson,” he concluded. “But I believe there is more to the story, Miss Cooke. I have gathered evidence from all sorts of places to gain an insight into your mind. I believe, as do many of my colleagues, that you were not spared simply because your physical scars intrigued the Beast. I believe that you were spared because the Beast needed a mate, and he saw a fitting vessel in you. As an imagined amalgamation of the animals Kevin tended at the zoo, the biological imperative was surely a driving force for the Beast. And if you were not to be food… well.”

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from responding, sure that she would start screaming and be unable to stop, like she had when she was the only captive left in their room, knowing that she’d likely die there.

“I believe that— having been groomed by your Uncle John— you readily fell into the trap that Dennis had laid out. You appealed to the baser desires that Patricia had warned you about, as evidenced in Dennis’ request to see Marcia dance, and his repeated attempts to remove clothing from all three of you. You kissed Hedwig, knowing that he was a child, knowing that it would create a co-dependency that put you in the driver’s seat. You tried to seduce all of the alters, you tried to please them just as you did with your Uncle, knowing that it was better than violence. It would at least buy you some time, if you could convince your captors to like you more than the other girls.”

It took every ounce of her strength not to recoil, pull against the cuffs, just to get an inch further away from this man, to get away from the venom pouring from his mouth.

“Dr Henson was too kindly to ask those sorts of things, Miss Cooke. He knew that you had to live by the fiction that you’d created for yourself, a less… _repugnant_ reason for your escape.”

His eyes glinted, and his hands trembled with the fervour of his beliefs. “I know the truth, Miss Cooke. What happened in that basement was your best chance of survival. You gave him your body and your mind. And after all of that, you had your Uncle put in jail, knowing that there was someone else out there who would suit you better. Someone who could offer you more power and perceived freedom than your washed-up uncle, who was already planning to keep you from attending college, and could offer you nothing.”

_This is so fucked up, this is so fucked up, please stop…_

“You returned to the Horde, begging Dr Staple for even a moment alone, to tempt the Beast into escaping and running away with you. I’ve seen the Raven Hill courtyard tapes. You stopped it with a single hand to the arm, it listened to you, and it obeyed you. When you embraced the Beast, and treated it as an equal, it regarded you with no malice. Do you even know how incredible your influence over the Beast has become? How much it already saw you as a shining example of its new world order? Did you know that it was marking you, when it licked your face like a territorial creature?”

He paused, and wrote something down in his notes, but Casey couldn’t even try to read it. She was so overwhelmed with confusion, revulsion, the events playing over in her head, but this time it was like an alternative cut. This time, she saw herself as some kind of fucked up seductress, and she could see that Casey’s motivations as clear as day. _Make yourself indispensable, make yourself desirable, and you can handle the way he hurts you, because it’s familiar and you know why he does it. This is what the world is like, Casey, and you know how to live in it._

“I cannot determine exactly what has happened since that date. You saw Dr Henson to superficially work through your trauma, all the while keeping the real chain of events behind the curtain. You testified against your Uncle, now a paedophilic nobody with a rap sheet a mile long, and waited with your foster family for your _real_ family to come and take you. I can only assume that one of the alters made contact with you, and as planned you ran away together. You tightened your hold on each other until it was clear that he would never betray your trust, and he could be trusted to use violence against anyone who stood in your way. You made a pact.”

_No. No. We stayed in the cabin. We talked. We drank tea. We played games. We hung the stars. There was no… there was no pact. Right?_

But then, the other memory surfaced. _I promise, Dennis. However long it takes._

“You were sent to me to discover whether I actually possessed the technology to erase the Beast, which was your greatest fear. But you miscalculated the reach of the Trinity… and here you are.”

_No. Dennis wanted help. He wanted to stop the Beast. They all do, now. He told me._

Her head pounded. What was happening to her?

It seemed like she had blinked, and then there were flashing lights in front her, or all around her, or she was entirely made of flashing lights…

*

*

*

She sat bolt upright in her cell, gasping for air.

_Fuck_. Had she passed out in the session with Dr Whittington? His accusations had been pretty severe, but she’d heard worse throughout her life. Maybe she was still sick, and she’d fainted.

She lay back on the futon, picking at her ragged fingernails, trying to recall exactly what had happened through a fog of confusion.

She would have to be more careful.

*

 


	11. The Trojan Horse

_Previously, in a motel room in Baltimore…_

_Dennis sat with his head in his hands, taking deep breaths. The crappy flip phone sat on the hotel coffee table between them. Somehow, miraculously, this innocuous piece of plastic had connected them to a different dimension._

_Casey. Alive. Scared…_

_Joseph could only gape silently at the outpouring of emotion that he’d seen from Dennis, and the fierce protection that Casey had demonstrated in return._

_Maybe he’d been wrong about them._

_“She’s okay,” Joseph said shakily._

_“For now. After this… who knows,” Dennis said softly._

_“Let’s find those bastards and bring her back, okay?” Joseph said, trying and failing to hide his joy at the news. They now had a rescue mission to organise, rather than a suicidal desire to seek revenge on an ancient international secret society. It was an equally difficult task, but one that he was glad to undertake._

_Dennis closed his eyes, and Joseph quickly turned away when he saw that the man was holding back tears of relief. They had a job to do._

*

Joseph started a chat with Ray to inform him of their change of strategy, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

This gave Dennis some time to adjust, as he struggled with all of the alters who wanted to gain control. It was one thing to feel joy in their room, but it was more real when you could be in the Light. Hedwig in particular couldn’t be contained for long.

He locked himself in the bathroom, and Hedwig immediately forced himself forward.

“What the heck, you guys! Casey’s alive!” He squealed, jumping up and down from sheer excitement. “Where is she though? Is she in danger? We need to see her.”

Barry came forward next. He was overwhelmed with relief; he had been feeling so guilty that their trip to Baltimore had led to her death, and now they had been given a second chance to show Casey that they were sorry for everything.

“Oh, the poor thing,” he gasped. “We need to do something. The Balance Trinity can’t be happy with her right now.”

To Barry’s surprise, Patricia requested permission to come forward. They’d had a rocky relationship, and he had been the one to spearhead her ban from the Light; but he felt a contrition in her, and he wanted to hear what she had to say.

She emerged, and looked at them in the bathroom mirror. Her gaze was resolute. “My dears, the Beast has shown us what He is capable of. But we are yet to learn His limitations. Whatever reason He had for refusing our call, I believe that Casey Cooke is the key.” She paused, and the next words were obviously painful for her to admit. “Additionally, I have been blinded by my faith. In my search for the divine, I ignored the material desires of Kevin and our group. I am truly sorry for the pain I have caused, as it was never my intention. I know that you are all my children, in a sense. Therefore, I have felt how important Casey is to all of you, and I am willing to foster this closeness. For the good of the group.”

She returned to her chair, and Dennis filled the vacuum, completely unsure of what he could say in response. Patricia had been such a strong figure, so resolute, that they had begun to compare her to Kevin’s own mother, and she had filled that role. In reality, she was designed to be a more nurturing figure, someone who could take Hedwig and the other shy alters under her wing, and show them the way.

“Thank you, Patricia,” Dennis said gruffly. “We have also wronged you. No part of Kevin should be… _undesirable_. We were all created for a reason.”

He splashed some water on his face, already feeling the headache that came with so many alters having the Light in quick succession. “For my part, I do not wish to dwell on the past. We’re not the Horde. We’re Kevin’s family. And right now, we’re missing one of our own. Casey might not be an alter, but she is a kindred spirit. And we owe it to her to give her the same freedom she has given us.”

 _Hear, hear,_ they heard Kevin whisper in the darkness. Those in their chairs felt the warm breath of his exhalation, and were comforted.

Finally, Orwell emerged. “We need to have a plan, my brother and sisters,” he said firmly. “With your permission, I will lead the charge.”

*

*

*

In the days to come, Joseph and the group were galvanized by Casey’s call, and they made progress in leaps and bounds.

Orwell took the Light most of the time now, and was extremely useful in applying his knowledge of military strategy to their circumstances. They were essentially planning to retrieve a comrade from behind enemy lines, against seemingly insurmountable odds.

He even tacked up an illustration of the Trojan horse as a kind of inspiration. “We need to remember our own strengths, Joseph,” he said grandly. “We have the element of surprise.”

Joseph managed to track down the Police report that was filed on Casey’s ‘murder’, which had likely been planted or doctored by the Balance Trinity. It was still hard reading, and fragments kept coming back to him at he worked or tried to get an hour or two of sleep.

_Jane Doe discovered by garbage collector at 5:05am. Injuries determined by paramedics to be incompatible with life. Crime scene established at 5:25am. Cause of death assumed to be gunshot wound to the head, and strong blows to the chest. Defensive wounds also seen on Jane Doe. No weapon located on initial sweep. No evidence of attacker located on initial inspection. CCTV in the area indicate that black Ford van with no plates may have been involved. Further laboratory tests reveal no genetic material on Miss Cooke from the attacker. Jane Doe identified as Casey Cooke from Case #5697308-P. Major Crimes Squad enlisted. All future reports to be sealed by MCS._

In the Precinct’s digitized financial records, he found a bill for the company who had allegedly taken Casey’s body away to a private morgue to perform the autopsy, which was rather unusual. There was a note from the usual pathologist citing a lack of staff as the reason for outsourcing the autopsy.

Joseph had his suspicions. It certainly wasn’t Casey’s body there, whether it was a dummy or some poor victim that looked enough like her, he wasn’t sure. But she’d been whisked away from the mainstream Police teams as soon as possible by this company, Baltimore Mortuary Services. The very same one that had been present at Dr Staple’s autopsy, and had said that the Beast was responsible for her death.

Baltimore Mortuary Services didn’t have much of a public presence. But Ray and Joseph managed to track their tax files to the same accountant as a shell company for Raven Hill Trust, someone known to take a lot of trips to the Cayman Islands.

Someone who, in their spare time, played golf with Dr Whittington.

Piece by piece, little by little, they crept up on the Balance Trinity.

*

*

*

Three days of painstaking work passed before Orwell entrusted Joseph with his first field mission.

They’d tracked down two different facilities that could be holding Casey, both in Maryland. One was supposedly a pharmaceutical research and development laboratory outside Westminster, and one was an industrial chemical manufacturer in Cordova. Casey had given them no indication of which one she was in, and they were running out of time to help her before she may be moved. _Or killed_ , they both acknowledged privately.

Joseph walked into a bar near Westminster, just after knock-off time. He’d seen a few Pharmaceutical employees go inside while he was in the carpark, and hoped that once he was in, he would be able to eavesdrop for scraps of information.

He ordered a soda, not wanting the bartender to ask for ID, and pretended to watch the football on one of the old TVs. He couldn’t even recall later what teams had been playing—he was entirely focused on the people around him.

He skimmed through several conversations before finding one that made him pay close attention.

“Did you hear about that nurse, Rhiannon?” one of the guys said in a hushed tone to his companion.

“Who?”

“You know, that new weekender in the South Wing.”

“The one with the hair?”

“Uh, yeah. Who else?”

“What about her?”

“Fired.”

The second guy was scandalized. “Seriously?”

“Right? Apparently she was responsible for a massive security breath. Prescott was fuming.”

He shuddered. “I can’t imagine.”

 _Prescott._ There it was. Casey had said that the Balance Keeper’s name was Sadie Prescott. They had trouble finding anything on her, and had assumed it must be a fake name. But combined with the mention of a ‘massive security breach’, he had the feeling that they were in the right place.

Joseph listened for a bit longer, before the bar became too crowded to listen to any one conversation, and the football game was over. He returned to the car before he started punching the air, and texted Orwell. He would see him in less than an hour, but he couldn’t wait to share the news.

_Green on Westminster._

*

*

*

By the time he made it back to the motel, Orwell was ready to launch into another lengthy soliloquy on the virtues of espionage. He had borrowed Dennis’ glasses in the absence of his own, but they slipped to the end of his nose with every excited gesture he made.

“Joseph, my boy, you have done admirably!”

He grinned. “It was just as much luck.”

“Well, if Lady Luck remains on our side, I guarantee a smooth operation from here,” Orwell said, gesturing to their extensive mind-map of information. They’d started tacking bits of paper to the window around the initial picture of the Trojan Horse, and it had grown into an absolute nest of ideas and lines to follow. It looked like the work of a madman, Joseph mused, which certainly suited Kevin (and probably himself).

Joseph sighed as he slung his messenger bag on his bed. “There’s a lot of holes, Orwell. We agreed not to go ahead until we were absolutely certain.”

Orwell stroked his chin, deep in thought. “With what we have now, and the Cordova Gambit, it’s _possible_ to mount a successful incursion on the facility. After that, it’s a matter of staying invisible for as long as possible.”

“Dennis said that he could help with that,” Joseph reminded him. “He said that being in Maintenance makes you half-invisible anyway. But we still have to get Casey out, and she won’t pass for a worker.”

“I had an idea about that.”

“I get the feeling I’m not going to like this…”

Orwell paused, suddenly unsure of himself. “How much did you discover about Baltimore Mortuary Services?”

“…fuck.”

*

*

*

Joseph could barely keep up with the preparations they needed to complete over the next few days, but eventually, everything was set.

They repeated each step of the plan to each other, speculating on what could go wrong and what they could expect, until Joseph could have recited it in his sleep. He told Orwell that he was going insane, but the man insisted they continue. “When you get there, there is a very real possibility that you will panic in the heat of the moment. You’re not trained like the military are trained to be cool under fire. But if you know what you have to do, how you have to adapt, it will end up being automatic. It’s like cooking with a recipe you know from heart: you add the ingredients without even thinking.”

“I’m not a great cook,” was all Joseph managed to reply, “but I know that I’m ready to do this.”

They parted ways, and despite his protests with Orwell, Joseph whispered the plan to himself, over and over, on the drive back to Philadelphia.

When Joseph let himself into the kitchen, David immediately enveloped him in a bear-hug.

“How was Baltimore? See the sights?”

“Mostly the inside of a hotel room, dad. Just as I promised. But it all went pretty well, considering.”

They sat at their tiny kitchen table, and Joseph dumped his heavy bag of tech gratefully.

“I saw the news, kid. I’m sorry about Casey,” David said seriously. “I thought you would have come back after you heard about her death. Do you know how it happened?”

Joseph, to his dad’s surprise, smiled. “Well, the official news is a bit outdated. She managed to contact us from inside a Balance Trinity facility. They faked her death, trying to provoke the Beast to kill again.”

David whistled. “A dangerous play. But I’m glad she’s alright.”

“It basically broke Dennis- one of Kevin’s alters. I’m pretty sure they love each other.”

David struggled with that for moment, before shrugging. “To each their own. Do you have a plan?”

Joseph grinned. “You’ll like this one. Dad, I think you need a holiday. Tomorrow.”

“About time. I thought I’d go fishing,” David said cheerily. “Isn’t that meant to be relaxing for a retiree?”

Joseph rolled his eyes. “Only if that retiree isn’t deadly afraid of water.”

“I didn’t think of that,” David said blandly. “Alright, how about skiing?”

“Also, lots of water.”

“Frozen water.”

“Does it make a difference?”

David shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess I’ll find out.”

Joseph resisted the urge to slap his dad on the back of his head. This wasn’t exactly the time for jokes, but he did appreciate his dad’s levity. “I did have a destination in mind. But just so you know, it could be dangerous.”

“I’ve been sitting in the goddamn store for two weeks. I’ll jump off the roof if you tell me.”

Joseph laid out his father’s role in the Cordova Gambit, and David’s light humor faded away, the longer he talked. Maybe it _would_ have been safer to jump off the roof…

*

*

*

Later, Casey would be able to recall more and more of the days and nights to come. She was never entirely certain of the time and sometimes she would wake up in her room with no recollection of how she’d got there after a session. Sometimes she would see Sadie Prescott or her assistant Pritika, but any fleeting memory of the present was taken away once she had a session with Dr Whittington.

Dr Whittington’s voice became a hypnotic tool, guiding her through the sessions and pushing at her boundaries. She even began to hear it when he wasn’t there.

His ‘therapy’ had other ways of getting inside her head. She realized that the water had been laced with something, and that the same chemical was probably in her food as well. The first time she refused to eat her meal, they just held her down and injected her with something. From then on, she choked down whatever they gave her.

He introduced some pillars of strobe lights, not as impressive as those in Kevin’s cell at Raven Hill, but enough to mess with her sense of reality.

The worst part came only a few days in, when she was forced to look at a folder of photos.

He guided her through the autopsy photos of Claire, Marcia, Dr Fletcher, and the men at Raven Hill. She had to look at the teeth-marks and shreds of flesh. He asked her to remember that the Beast was capable of this violence, and would do more. She was asked to consider that it was her fault, and that if she’d just listened to Dr Staple, he would be contained.

Her head hurt, most days. Sometimes she emerged from the fog, and in a moment of clarity, she knew that Dr Whittington was fucking with her mind. But she still had trouble figuring out what was real and what was just his suggestion, his words slipping into her brain like oil trying to mix with water.

Then she would be called up again, and sometimes she would be aware enough to fight back, kicking and screaming with all her might, but sometimes she let herself be practically carried to the room.

_Flash._

Another.

_Flash._

Another.

_Flash._

He told her at the end of the session that she was getting better. She hoped that it was true, if only because she couldn’t imagine anything worse.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to apologise to anyone who knows the actual setting in Maryland. I literally chose two random towns on the map for the two Balance Trinity bases, so please excuse any glaring errors!


	12. Once More Unto The Breach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to this_wicked_love and FantasmaGeek for their live commentary! <3
> 
> This chapter's a short one, but I'll upload the next one ASAP.

Dr Whittington left his apartment at precisely 6:45am every morning. He was in one of Baltimore’s most exclusive high rises, so he had his BMW parked in the basement, to avoid it icing overnight.

Ian whistled when he saw the luxurious vehicle, but Dennis prodded him into his task impatiently. He ran a finger along the car wistfully before popping the trunk, and climbing inside at precisely 6:15am.

Along with his unexpected passenger, Dr Whittington made it to the Balance Trinity’s Westminster facility at precisely 8:00am. The guard checked the list of approved arrivals, glanced at the driver’s face, and waved him through, as he had done every morning for two weeks. Joseph’s surveillance of the facility had paid off.

Dr Whittington parked in the covered staff-reserved area, in a spot that Sadie Prescott had designated for him.

Dennis waited in the trunk for the psychiatrist to leave, and heard the distant _beep_ of his swipe-card being used to get in the building proper. He waited for five minutes to ensure that he wasn’t coming back to fetch anything, and leapt into action.

He jimmied the trunk open, made sure there were no witnesses, and emerged in a drab grey jumpsuit, also retrieving a black plastic box of tools. The patch on his chest proclaimed him an employee of _Platinum Technical Services_ , as did his cap.

He walked calmly to the service door, which was locked from the inside. He pretended to be fiddling with a lighting control panel, but also prepared his spray bottle of chemicals for his first victim. Now he just had to wait, and stay alert.

It took longer than they had anticipated, but soon, an employee came out for a cigarette. It was already between their fingers, but they had to fumble around in their uniform pockets for a lighter.

The man nodded at Dennis, who nodded back. He then did a double-take, not recognizing the man who was apparently a co-worker—and was immediately rendered unconscious.

Dennis patted him down and dragged him under the closest car. He stole the man’s security pass, and looked at the name on his ID: Peter Hahn.

He waltzed into the belly of the beast like he belonged there, although he had no fucking clue which way he needed to head. Joseph said that the nurse responsible for the security breach had apparently been fired from the South Wing, so he took the approximate paths to keep him heading south, keeping an eye on his watch. They were on a tight schedule.

He saw a short Latina woman carrying a tray of food, which looked like the kind of thing he’d been served in Raven Hill. He followed the woman idly, and when she looked behind to see who else was walking her path, he summoned Barry to grin at her.

“Horrible out there of a morning, isn’t it?” he sighed. “I think I’m still frozen solid. Still, could be worse.”

The woman nodded, still eyeing him up and down.

“Have you seen Peter anywhere? He said that he’d help me out with the monitors in the South Wing, but he’s up and vanished.” He hefted the toolbox and smiled.

The woman seemed to warm to him as she said, “He’s probably out for a cigarette. You know Peter.”

“I think he’s been trying to quit for about a hundred years now,” Barry replied, rolling his eyes to the heavens.

“He likes his breaks too much,” she tutted. “No more than ten minutes, they say.”

“That’s the longest ten minutes I’ve ever seen,” Barry winked, and she finally cracked a smile. “Would you be a dear and direct me to the security suite? I used to work exterior only, and now I’m lost in the rabbit warren,” he said ruefully.

She jerked her thumb down one of the branches and said, “Two more blocks, then turn right. Can’t miss it.”

“You’re a lifesaver. Apparently the security boys broke another monitor. What are they doing, hitting it when they get bored?”

“Wouldn’t put it past them. Although I heard there’s some kind of big operation going on at Cordova, so maybe your monitors will be spared for now. See you around, yes?”

The woman strode down the other branch, and Barry followed her instructions. He knocked on an imposing metal door that simply said CC STH, praying that it was the right one, and that it stood for Closed Circuit South.

The man who opened the door was blond and solidly built, instantly recognizable as a guard from his utility belt of weaponry and the scowl on his face. He wouldn’t be easily charmed, Barry mused.

“IT maintenance, we had a report of a monitor on the fritz?” Barry said breezily, peeking behind the man to take in as much as he could.

The man frowned. “Lemme check,” he said. He went back to his station, littered with half-empty coffee mugs and fast food wrappers. Barry stepped inside just a tad, and scanned the screens until he came across one labelled INT RM 3 STH, where he could see Dr Whittington settling in, and Casey sitting across from him.

_Casey._

Her head was down, her shoulders slumped, but he would recognize her anywhere. His pulse raced.

“Nah, all good here,” the guard interrupted. “Maybe it was West.”

Barry saw his opportunity to get inside slipping away. “Might be. I’ll check the ticket. Need anything else done, while I’m here?”

The guard shrugged. “My chair squeaks a lot.”

Barry snorted in mock-offence. “I’m tech services, not facilities. Jee-sus.”

“Fuck me, then,” the guard muttered.

“I’m just kidding, I’ll take a look,” he said quickly. “If I can assemble Ikea furniture, I can take a look at a squeaky chair. Just this once, mind you.”

The guard sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, finally letting Barry into the dark room. He took out a cellphone and started typing something, not even looking down as Barry pretended to examine the problem chair.

But it was Dennis who carefully unpacked the toolkit and rose to his feet to hit the guard with a double-dose of chloroform. He didn’t go down easy, and Dennis winced as the guard struggled and his fists swung wildly, hitting Dennis in the ribs a few times before he succumbed to the chemical and slumped to the floor.

He put the chloroform away and felt light-headed, as he hadn’t been able to put his mask on. He breathed shallowly in the contained space. Working fast, trying to ignore the mess in front of him, he scrounged around the paperwork on the cluttered desk until he found a map of the South Wing, and memorized his route to Interrogation Room Three South, as well as surrounding corridors. He locked the comatose guard in the room with layers of duct tape around his wrists, ankles, and mouth. He also took the guard’s keys and access pass, just in case the Maintenance one he’d used wasn’t all-access.

Finally, he took out the small device that Joseph had given him. He found a USB port on what looked to be the main computer terminal, and plugged it in until the red light flashed three times. Hopefully, if Ray’s connections could be trusted, all footage from that day would be too corrupted to play back. Now that the virus was spreading, he put the drive back in the toolbox.

He started walking again, double pace, until he came across INT RM 1 STH. He went two doors down, and stood in front of INT RM 3 STH.

Dennis had a fleeting thought that the Beast was best placed to handle this, as violence may be required. Dennis could handle himself in a fight, but right now, he was emotionally compromised.

He reminded himself that Casey was on the other side of that door, and he had promised her that he didn’t need the Beast. He wouldn’t break his promise to her now.

Dennis steeled himself and knocked sharply on the door.

Dr Whittington pulled it open after a few tense moments. “How many times, Sadie! I cannot be interrupted in the midst of a light program, it—”

His eyes widened comically as he realized who was there, and Dennis immediately shoved him in the center of his diaphragm. He was launched back into the room, crashing backwards into his chair with a wheeze of pain. Dennis made sure the door closed behind them, so as to not be disturbed.

“K-Kevin, it’s nice to finally meet you. I want to—”

Dennis completely forgot that he had planned to chloroform the psychiatrist. He pulled Dr Whittington up by his shirt, and swung directly at his face with the heavy toolbox.

The bastard dropped like a stone, nose bleeding freely, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

Casey stared at the intruder, and he could see real fear in her eyes, for the first time in a long time. She looked incredibly pale, and she was straining at the cuffs that kept her at the table, even though there was no chance of working free.

He approached her cautiously, sensing that something was seriously wrong. “Casey? Are you—”

Dennis didn’t know that Dr Whittington’s therapy sessions with Casey involved strobing lights. He didn’t know that they were automatically set to flash every twenty seconds, stimulating Casey’s vulnerable brain into accepting whatever the doctor could plant there by other means.

So when the strobe flashed, and Dennis was shoved aside, he was unable to even put up a fight.

*


	13. The Extraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am formally sorry, here is my apology chapter.

It had started off like all the other sessions. Dr Whittington had asked that she focus on her memories of the basement, on her motivations, and the real possibility that she had survived because of her own undesirable traits. As the light flashed, she would describe and process that memory, and move onto the next. At the end of the session, they would review what they’d learned, and Casey would leave with an aching head full of nightmares.

She wasn’t sure if she was doing the sessions correctly, most of the time. It was all a bit hazy. But Dr Whittington seemed to like her progress. She felt unnerved, to be seeking his approval, but couldn’t quite remember why. Surely he was there to help her? He’d told her many times that Sadie Prescott had wanted to get rid of her, but he had convinced her that therapy was the best option. So she supposed she should be grateful to Dr Whittington; but he hadn’t been able to cure her headaches. In fact, now she thought about it, they were worse after each session.

“Casey? Are you concentrating?” he asked, and she berated herself.

They were interrupted by a loud knock.

Dr Whittington cursed, and wrenched the door open with a tirade already on his lips. “How many times, Sadie! I cannot be interrupted in the midst of a light program, it—”

Casey gasped as he was launched back into the room, groaning in pain. She pulled back against her restraints, but could barely move away.

“K-Kevin, it’s nice to finally meet you. I want to—”

The intruder disposed of Dr Whittington with cold and calculated violence, and then he looked directly at her.

Casey felt two entirely distinct reactions, in seeing that familiar face again.

The deepest part of her was overjoyed, and found his stern expression very comforting, and wanted to trust him.

The other part, the raw and bleeding part, was already screaming in horror as the face of so many of her nightmares was made flesh before her, and she realized distantly that she couldn’t even distinguish between the specific alters anymore. All she could think, in the tempo of her racing heart, was _the Beast, the Beast, the Beast…_

Whichever alter was in the Light started to speak. “Casey? Are you—”

The strobe flashed, and Casey keened in pain as the headache spiked. She heard the intruder groan as well, and his voice was suddenly high and feminine.

“No, no, this isn’t part of the plan! Dennis, are you there? Barry? Patricia? Oh, fuck, this is bad…”

_Flash._

“What have they done to you, baby girl? Don’t worry, we’ll sort everything out. Dennis has a plan. Now—”

_Flash._

“Case! You’ve been away for so long, I’ve been so _bored_. We thought you were dead, but I totally didn’t believe it for a second, and I didn’t cry at all. Ooh, you know who could help you get out of those? Hang on, I’ll see if he can come out!”

_Flash._

He dropped to the floor, screams being ripped from his throat, muscles shifting and buckling under his skin. Casey pulled harder at the restraints, despite how they dug into her wrists and started to bleed, hoping against all the odds that there was some kind of weakness in the metal that could set her free.

When he rose, his eyes were pure black, and his nostrils flared.

The Beast.

It looked at the portable strobe light pillars with contempt, and started smashing them with its fists, unheeding of the glass shards, and of Casey flinching at each blow. They were soon piles of broken circuitry and plastic.

She found herself stuck in her terror. “No, no no…” _Don’t look at the Beast and it won’t get you_ , she recalled, but couldn’t remember if it had been within a nightmare or real life that it had stalked and ripped her apart. Wasn’t she covered in the scars to prove it?

The creature snarled deeply with every breath, flicking its head like it was being annoyed by an insect. It started stalking around the small room with feline strides. Casey stopped struggling briefly to observe it. It didn’t seem enraged anymore, but she knew that it was only a matter of time. _A monster was a monster, she ought to know._

It kicked at Dr Whittington’s crumpled body, almost in curiosity, and Casey didn’t know whether the doctor was dead or alive. She also didn’t know which would be better.

Suddenly, the Beast advanced on her, and unable to watch her death approaching, she closed her eyes tightly. The images of Claire and Marcia’s bodies flashed on the inside of her eyelids.

There was a metallic screech, and she was yanked forward by her restraints. She choked back a scream, but there was no sudden onset of pain, no teeth ripping into her flesh.

Instead, she felt something hot and wet stroking across her hands.

Her eyes flew open. The metal ring on the table had been bent open like it was made of melted wax, and to her horror, the Beast was licking at her bloodied wrists.

Every stroke of his tongue stung a little, but it seemed to be strangely tender around the worst of the cuts.

Once it had finished lapping up the blood, it observed her with bared teeth, like it was waiting for her to make a move. Did it want her to run? To become the hunted?

Or was it like Dr Whittington said? Did it want her as some kind of… mate?

Then she remembered. That scrap of yellowed paper on the table, with a message written in shaky block letters.

“Kevin Wendell Crumb,” she stuttered.

It shuddered, waves rippling through its body.

“Kevin Wendell Crumb!”

With an almighty heave, it collapsed to the ground again, and seemed to shrink before her very eyes.

“Oh my God,” he said shakily, pulling himself up on the edge of the table. “I thought we were toast. I thought…”

He shook himself. “Never mind that. We need to get you out of here.”

Casey blinked. “Is it… Kevin?” she asked tentatively.

He looked at her in surprise. “Of course it is. What…”

He seemed to notice the setup in the room for the first time—the psych file on the desk, the unconscious Dr Whittington, the smashed strobe lights.

“What have they been doing to you?” he breathed.

“I’m not sure,” she said shakily. “But I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to leave. The doctor said…”

She trailed off, trying to remember exactly what he’d said, and why it was important.

Kevin grasped her shoulders gently, and she flinched. “Casey Cooke, you have saved my life more than once. You have befriended all of us, and tried to understand us, and become so important to us. And I understand if I’ve brought you nothing but pain, and suffering. But Dr Whittington was not helping you. He was trying to brainwash you. Do you understand?”

Casey nodded shakily.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do. I don’t know why, but I do,” she said quietly.

He put his hands under her forearms, and gently guided her to standing. She stumbled once she had her feet under her, so he walked backwards in front of her, like her dad used to do when he was teaching her how to ice skate.

They walked past Dr Whittington, still lying unconscious while his nose bled freely, and Kevin took a moment to check his pulse. Sluggish, but he’d live. He patted down the coat now lying on the floor, and triumphantly retrieved the doctor’s car keys. He also picked up Dennis’ toolbox, just in case. He wasn’t as well briefed on the plan as some of the group, and he hadn’t ever intended to be called to the Light in such a dangerous situation. But he had to make the best of it, until the group stopped reeling from the effects of the strobe lights and of Kevin being called to the Light by his name.

To his relief, no one had noticed the commotion inside the locked and sound-proofed interrogation room. It also appeared that the guard that Dennis had knocked out earlier had not yet come around, as there weren’t any armies outside in the corridor. It was entirely clear.

“Let’s go,” Kevin said softly, and they walked through the bright hallway side by side, with his arm gently bracing her waist. Casey looked confused, and kept twisting behind her, as though she thought someone else should have been with them.

Dennis had memorized the facility layout, so Kevin had a pretty good idea of where to go next. Thankfully, they met no one else on the short trip. Although he also suspected that their Cordova Gambit had paid off as well.

The door sign said, in stark simplicity, _Morgue_.

This was going to be his least favourite part. Thankfully, Casey didn’t read the sign. She shivered as they went inside, as the temperature dropped significantly. Kevin scanned the room quickly, but there was no one around. There were two high tables draped in sheets, thankfully without any bodies lying on them, and a few metal cadaver drawers set in the wall. There was also a workbench with scattered medical instruments and microscopes that he didn’t look at too closely, but he went towards it so he could perch Casey on the high stool.

She let him lead her there, still completely out of it, and almost unbalanced as he let go. He steadied her, gently holding her shoulders and rubbing them softly. He remembered comforting her after her nightmare, almost two weeks ago, in their hideaway in the forest. It appealed to him, that he could offer so much warmth to another. It made him feel… whole. But right now, they needed to focus.

“Casey, I know that you trust me. That’s really important. But do you think you trust Dennis?”

“Dennis…” she murmured. Suddenly, a warmth spread from inside her chest. “Yes, I think that I do.”

“That’s good. He wants to take control now, and he’s going to take great care of you, okay?”

She nodded.

Kevin closed his eyes briefly, and it was a surprisingly easy transition, Dennis eager to come forward despite the way that he was forced from the Light minutes ago.

Dennis resisted the urge to simply envelop Casey and never let go. He was conscious of the fact that Joseph hadn’t turned up yet, although he was due ten minutes ago, so perhaps Orwell’s plan had fallen apart. Until he was sure, he would keep Casey here, and try to help her.

“Hi, Casey,” he said cautiously.

She looked up at him, seemingly surprised. “Hi, Dennis. I didn’t think you were coming.”

Dennis swallowed hard, wondering fleetingly why she would have lost faith in him. “Do you remember calling me? You called me from the clinic here, to tell me that you were still alive, and to ask for help.”

“I… don’t know,” she said miserably. “Could you stop asking questions? It makes my head hurt.”

He wanted to hurt Dr Whittington again, just for making Casey appear so weak, and for messing with her perfect mind.

“Alright. What if I just… keep talking?”

Her answering little smile made every thought fly away for a brief moment. He recovered with some effort.

“First of all, Hedwig is going to be very happy to see you. He couldn’t stop asking for Joseph to buy him ice cream, once he discovered that you were okay. Now that we’re getting you out, you’ll likely have to eat a lot of ice-cream with him.”

“That sounds okay,” she said absently. “How is Joseph?”

He felt a stab of jealousy. “He’s fine. You should be seeing him soon. Did you know that he went to the same school as you? He graduated last year. He wants to go into IT, and with the hacking he’s done so far, I think he’s going to do pretty well on the right side of the law as well.”

“Hacking?”

“It wasn’t easy to find you, Casey,” Dennis said simply. “I’m sorry that we couldn’t come sooner. I’m sorry that I ever got you into this mess. I’m sorry that you were locked in with the Beast back there, even though I promised to keep him away. I’m so, so sorry…”

Casey looked puzzled, like she didn’t understand why he was apologizing to her.

Dennis took a long breath, and rubbed his head compulsively. He wasn’t used to it either, but after everything, he couldn’t afford to be stoic about his feelings.

“Where are we?” Casey asked finally, seeming to become aware of her surroundings.

“We’re hiding in the morgue, just for now. Joseph is going to meet us here, and get you out safe.”

“Oh. Will I be dead?”

Dennis looked at her sharply, hoping to see humour on her face, but she seemed entirely serious, and resigned to that fate.

“Of course not. Don’t even think about it,” he said fiercely. “We didn’t go to all this trouble to let you die.”

“Okay.” She didn’t sound convinced, and he wanted to comfort her, but didn’t know what to say.

There was a faint noise, a squeaking, coming closer with every second. Dennis tensed up, ready for a fight.

The double doors on the other side of the room swung open, revealing a gurney with a large black body bag already on it, being wheeled in by Joseph.

“Finally,” Dennis breathed, at the exact same time that Joseph said, “You actually did it!”

Joseph grinned despite his nerves, setting the gurney aside to greet the two of them. “Hi, Casey.”

She looked at him with a small frown on her face. “Hi, Joseph. Are you here to die as well?”

His eyes widened.

“No, Casey. No one is here to die,” Dennis explained firmly, before turning to Joseph. “Dr Whittington was brainwashing her or something. She’s a bit confused right now.”

“Shit. Is she going to be okay, in the...?” he motioned helplessly to the body bag.

Dennis didn’t reply, which was all the answer Joseph needed.

“We have to go real soon. The Cordova Gambit worked, so loads of the security staff were dispatched, but we should leave before they realise you’re not going to show up against dad.”

*

*

*

Meanwhile, in executing Orwell’s Cordova Gambit, David Dunn was trying to explain to about fifty trigger-happy SWAT members why it was a really, really bad idea to confront a superhuman. The roadblock in front of him was impressive, he’d have to give them that.

He got out of the hire car, and was immediately yelled at from all sides.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there, GI Joe!” he shouted, holding his palms out. Despite being near-invincible, he was still incredibly uneasy having so many guns pointed at his chest.

“Overseer, don’t move!” one of the men shouted.

He froze obligingly. “I swear, I’m not doing anything wrong.”

One of the men with a red stripe on his sleeve, indicating some kind of rank, approached him. “David Dunn, you need to explain to us right now what you’re doing here.”

“I’m having a vacation. Ever heard of that?”

“So close to a Trinity base? Do you expect us to believe that?”

“A _what_ base?"

The man seemed to realise his mistake all too late. He retreated and hissed into his ear-mike. The lines of soldiers parted like the Red Sea, and a woman in a navy blue coat came sweeping through the gap. She was around the same age as David, he estimated, and all of the young men seemed to defer to her.

So this was the boss… quite possibly Sadie Prescott. Joseph had warned him that she might tag along.

“Mr Dunn, do forgive my associates. All of this military jargon… my name is Ms Prescott. I’m just quite concerned that you left Philadelphia so quickly, especially after there was a Beast sighting in this area.”

“You don’t say,” David feigned surprise. Of course, Joseph and Ray had planted a credible sighting nearby earlier that morning. It may even appear to the outside eye that David had seen the sighting and rushed off to intercept the Beast. “I don’t know anything about that, Ms Prescott, was it?”

The woman nodded curtly.

“My friend owns a cabin around these parts. Thought we’d spend a few days drinking and catching up on old times. If I’d known I wasn’t allowed to leave Philly, I wouldn’t have put you guys to so much trouble.”

Ms Prescott paled with every word that David spoke. “You _weren’t_ going after the Beast?”

“Hell, no!” he snorted. “Dr Staple asked me to do the same thing, and I refused. I’ve had it with all of this. I never wanted to see Elijah Price again, let alone a new monster. You must think I’m crazy.”

If there was a satisfied glint in David’s eye at that moment, Ms Prescott didn’t see it. She was too busy churning the situation over in her head.

David could see the cogs turning. _If the Beast wasn’t actually anywhere near Cordova, and the sighting was false… if David came up here with his tracking anklet and we were forced to respond to the double threat… then the other base is vulnerable._

_Casey Cooke._

Ms Prescott looked like she’d eaten something sour. “I do apologise for interrupting your holiday, Mr Dunn. Perhaps consider warning the authorities before leaving Philadelphia, in future. We will be happy to escort you to the holiday home, just in case the Beast does turn up.”

“By all means, I’ll feel much safer.”

She turned to her troops and began barking orders. It meant that he’d run out of time. He hoped that Joseph and Kevin had extracted Casey by now, because a whole lot of guns were about to be rushed back to both bases, and only the Beast was immune to bullets.

*

*

*

“She can’t be moved like this,” Dennis said softly. “But I do have the chloroform.” 

Joseph winced. “Given how loopy she is right now, we have no idea what other drugs might be in her system. It could kill her in a dozen different ways.”

“But if she starts moving when she’s in the body bag, we’re all dead,” Dennis said bluntly.

Joseph reluctantly agrees, and zips open the bag.

Dennis turned back to Casey, who still didn’t seem all there. “We’re going to give you something to help you sleep, and so that Joseph can take you home.”

“Home?”

“Or wherever you want to go.”

“The conservatory,” she decided. “We can watch the birds.” Dennis didn’t know what that meant, so he just nodded.

Dennis helped her lie down on the gurney, trying to ignore the sick feeling he had, seeing her surrounded by the black tarp.

He unpacked the toolbox, hoping that it would be the last time he needed to do this, and placed the barest drop of chloroform on a piece of cloth, hoping he could control the dosage.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” he said, and gently held it above her lips.

She frowned for a moment, fighting the spinning sensation, but relaxed entirely when she slipped into unconsciousness.

Dennis checked that her breathing was regular, and not too shallow, fretting that he’d gone too far, or hadn’t factored in the rest of the drugs correctly. He felt completely out of his depth.

Joseph started zipping up the bag, starting from the feet. When he was about halfway, he said gently, “You’re going to have to let go, Dennis. I can take care of her from here.”

Dennis hadn’t even realized that they’d been holding hands, ever since he’d helped her onto the gurney.

He reluctantly let go and laid her hands by her sides, feeling a familiar anger rise up as he noticed her chafed wrists still bleeding in places. The Trinity would pay, once she was safe.

He couldn’t bear to watch her face disappear behind the black plastic, so he turned away. He saw a nearby sink, and washed his hands of the chloroform residue, taking some small comfort in this familiar routine—hot water, soap, palms, fingers, webbing, back of hands. Repeat.

“You need to go,” Joseph said urgently from behind him. “I’ll be right behind you.”

He nodded and set his jaw. “Thank you, Joseph. I’ll see you soon.”

And then they were gone.

He turned his mind to his own escape. He was still in his Maintenance uniform, although he’d lost his cap somewhere in the fight with Dr Whittington. It couldn’t be helped. He grabbed the toolbox and strode out of the morgue, heading straight for the staff carpark. Anyone who passed him when chatting with others didn’t notice him at all; anyone who was walking alone did see him, and maybe exchanged an absent nod.

He’d had ten years of experience at the zoo. The only useful thing that he’d learned, the only thing that mattered now, was how to act like he wasn’t there.

Poor Peter Hahn was still hidden under the car, and Dennis took pity on the guy; he dragged him out to a seated position against the wall, and clipped his security pass back on his trousers. Maybe he wouldn’t be fired if it just looked like he’d slept on his break. He took Dr Whittington’s car, retrieving the thick winter coat and hat that he’d stashed in the trunk initially. He went to a different gate, praying that they didn’t see Dr Whittington as often, and he could pass through without them noticing his completely different face.

They did a cursory inspection, and even opened the trunk this time, but everyone was distracted by some update coming through on their main monitor in the booth. Dennis assumed that news of intercepting the Overseer was trickling back, and that David had successfully distracted the bulk of the Balance Trinity’s forces.

He didn’t feel elation, once he was outside the gates. He didn’t feel freedom. He felt like he was the one slowly suffocating in a body bag, and only Casey could get him out of the pitch blackness.

He stopped at their rendezvous point, the first to arrive, and settled in for the longest wait of his life.

*


	14. Prince Charming

Joseph had a bad feeling about this. He wondered if he’d inherited that particular sixth sense from his dad, or if it was just a natural response to breaking someone out of a military-grade facility.

He tried to stop his hands from trembling as he wheeled the gurney out the same way he’d entered. Casey was lying still, for now, but he had no idea how long that would last. Not knowing if she was awake and terrified, or even if she’d started choking inside the body bag, was his idea of torture.

He nodded to the same security guard overlooked the loading bay, who was still looking bored as he nodded back.

Joseph pushed the gurney up to the _Baltimore Mortuary Services_ van, which was discreetly painted black with a single gold stripe and BMS written across the back doors. He and Ray had found the depot where they were stored, bought the same make and model, and found someone to do the paint job—last minute and no questions asked. A lot of money had been laid down for all of that, and Joseph winced as he considered the depleted stores in his college account. He wondered if he could convince Ray to place bets on the Overseer on his behalf, to recoup the expenses…

_Focus._

Joseph unlocked the van, which was modelled after an ambulance, and latched open the back doors. He pushed the gurney into the back in one smooth motion, and the legs folded up underneath the stretcher. He locked the gurney in place with a few flicks of the levers.

He moved like this was his job, and he’d been doing it every day of his life. Turns out, there was an advantage to repeating the plan to himself _ad nauseum_. He would have to thank Orwell for that piece of wisdom, if they ever got to talk again.

He drove carefully out of the loading dock and slowly reached the outside gate, and knew immediately that something had changed.

The guards in the booth were talking on a landline to someone, with matching expressions of concern. They kept the steel bollards blocking the road up, and didn’t ask to see his credentials when he pulled up. They glanced in his direction, and then kept talking.

_Shit, shit, shit…_

There was a knock on the window.

“Fuck!” Joseph gasped, before seeing that it was one of the ordinary staff, or at least, someone not armed to the teeth.

He rolled down the window. “Is there a problem?” he asked casually, while looking for signs of trouble.

She also looked pretty worried, and the phone in her hand was blowing up with messages. She didn’t look evil to Joseph; she was relatively young, possibly Indian or Pakistani, and the gold chain around her neck had a little Tardis swinging off the end.

“Doctor Who,” he blurted, pointing at her chest.

She raised an eyebrow. “Yup.”

He went bright red. “Sorry. I mean, is there anything I can help you with? Only, I’m meant to have the deceased back to Philadelphia by ten, and the freeway can gridlock at 2nd Street at this time of day, and...”

“It’s Joseph, right?”

His heart stopped. _Oh, we’re so fucked._

“I’m Pritika. Don’t do anything stupid. The whole place is going into lockdown.”

She must have read his mind, because he was just starting to calculate his chances of survival if he tried to drive straight at the fence at high speed.

“Something tells me I’ve already done something incredibly stupid,” he said ruefully.

“Can I see the deceased, Joseph? You can keep the engine running.”

She stepped back so he could get out of the cab. She was shorter than him, even with heels on.

He reluctantly opened up the back doors, and revealed the body bag, still entirely zipped up. Pritika climbed in the back and motioned for Joseph to do the same.

She unzipped it, and seemed entirely unsurprised to see Casey Cooke inside, very much still breathing.

“You know, I’m not some kind of fanatic,” Pritika said suddenly, still staring at Casey. “It’s more of a family tradition. But seeing what they did to her… what Dr Whittington wanted to create… listening to her screams…”

Joseph couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

She looked away from Casey, and her gaze was resolute when it met Joseph’s. “Get behind the wheel, drive through when I tell you to, and don’t look back. Get her some actual help, okay?”

He nodded, choking on the thanks that he wanted to give, but she was already stepping out of the van.

By the time he locked up the back doors and returned to the driver’s seat, Pritika was in the guard hut, arguing with the two men, gesturing wildly at her phone and at the van.

The bollards eventually lowered. The gate swung open. And at Pritika’s curt wave, which Joseph returned shakily, they were free.

*

*

*

The walking trail was closed in winter, so there wasn’t another soul at carpark at the head of the trail. Dennis squinted up at the sky, heavy with the promise of snowfall.

Doubts swirled through his mind. What if Joseph hadn’t got out? What if Casey couldn’t be revived? What if David hadn’t distracted the Trinity for long enough, and Sadie had returned? What if Joseph took Casey somewhere else, far away from the Beast?

Orwell told him to trust in the plan, but trust didn’t come easily to Dennis.

His head jerked towards the road when he heard an engine coming closer, and a black van crawled into view.

The wheels of the van crunched on the gravel as it arrived at the entrance to the carpark, but he didn’t allow himself to believe that it was Joseph just yet. Dennis was itching to walk towards them, watching like a hawk as the van pulled into an adjacent spot. To his relief, Joseph hopped out of the cab.

“We need to check her,” Joseph said immediately, and Dennis helped him open the back doors. “Did you get away alright?”

“As planned,” Dennis replied stiffly. “You?”

“We didn’t. They’d already started to lock everything down, I thought you’d been caught. I was stopped at the gate, but one of the Balance Keepers or something let us go. She knew that I had Casey in the back and she just just _let us go_. Otherwise we’d have been lost.”

Dennis was only half-listening as he unzipped the body bag, and he was shocked to see that Casey was already staring back up at him, blinking blearily at the sudden onset of light.

“Alive?” she whispered.

Unable to help himself, he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Alive.”

They helped her step out of the vehicle, out into the fresh air, and took a moment to sit against the bumper of the van while she gained her bearings. Casey started leaning heavily against Dennis, and he certainly wasn’t complaining. He let one arm sling around her, feeling her shivering.

In the few minutes they’d been inside the van, it had properly started to snow.

Dennis was having a hard time getting a read on Casey, and he was so worried about her wellbeing, but he didn’t know where to start. He hadn’t anticipated seeing her so… broken. So unlike herself. He couldn’t stop blaming himself for the fact that it had taken almost two weeks to get her back. Twelve days, to be exact. Twelve days where she must have been so alone, and he hadn’t come for her. Twelve days of hell.

He knew what the old Casey would say. She’d made her own decision, gone to Dr Whittington’s office willingly, and she’d lived through the ordeal to ensure that they’d be together again.

But did this new Casey feel the same? Had she been bent so far out of shape by the Balance Trinity that she’d snapped? Had she suffered more than she could bear?

Did she want to leave?

Eventually, with one question, she answered all of the many doubts swirling through his mind.

“Does Hedwig still want that ice-cream?” she asked, holding out her hand to catch a few drifting flakes of snow.

“In this weather?” Joseph asked dryly.

Dennis also held out his hand, feeling the sting of the cold. _Alive._

“I think he always wants ice-cream,” he said finally. “Maybe I should let him have some, just this once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Another short one, but hopefully more satisfying than the previous cliffhangers. :) I'm doing some major rewrites to the last few chapters, so don't expect one every day, but I'll do my best! Also, I didn't intend to do a Sixth Sense reference for Bruce Willis' character, but once it happened I just had to keep it in.  
> xo rhapsody


	15. Safe as Houses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay, there were some major re-writes that needed to be done. I'm also fighting off the urge to start on my new fic, when this one still needs attention :P  
> Enjoy!

*

Casey was soon sleeping in the back seat of the car that Orwell and Barry had left there the day before. Dennis cranked up the heater until it was like a sauna compared to the outside.

They had arranged for Joseph to drive the van further up the highway to a place it could be concealed for a while, before walking a few miles to get the train home. It was almost unbelievable that they’d gotten to that part of the plan; Joseph had been so focused on the impossibility of breaking Casey out of the prison.

Now it was all over, he was reluctant to leave Casey with Kevin and his alters. It didn’t feel like they’d had a clean getaway. He didn’t want to abandon them to the Balance Trinity, who were surely looking everywhere for them, and wouldn’t give up easy.

Dennis asked Joseph to help him wipe down Dr Whittington’s car and steal the plates, just in case it hindered the Trinity investigation in any way. The two co-conspirators were now occupied with cleaning the inside of the BMW.

“Have you heard from David?” Dennis asked seriously.

Joseph shook his head. “He said he’d send me a text once he got to the cabin, and that’s at least half an hour away if everything went to plan. Besides, I don’t have my phone here so it wouldn’t be traced.”

“You don’t seem that worried.”

Joseph sighed. “I am, but I also know there’s no point getting upset. Besides, my dad’s kind of a superhero.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t worry about him,” Dennis noted.

“I know.” He paused. “So, I realize that looking after Casey is going to fall on you now. I know that Orwell or Barry or someone had a plan. But if anything goes wrong, you know that you can call us, right?”

Dennis was suddenly very interested in thoroughly wiping down the radio dials.

“I know that you care about Casey,” Dennis said finally. “If she wants to get in contact with you, I will not stop her.”

Joseph resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d been trying to convey to Dennis that he could trust them, but apparently the message hadn’t been received. If it had been one of the other alters that had spent a lot of time with Joseph, like Barry or Orwell, he was sure that they would have understood. He wasn’t just here for Casey anymore: he was in it for the team.

“I don’t mind hearing from any of you. Just FYI.”

He quickly got out of the car to save Dennis the embarrassment of trying to respond to Joseph as if he was an actual friend.

A few minutes later, there was no reason for Joseph to hang around anymore, so he said farewell to a much more contemplative Dennis. He glanced at the sleeping Casey one more time before getting in the van and driving away.

He could swear that he didn’t fully exhale until he was back home and he listened to his father’s voicemail, reassuring him that all was well.

*

*

*

Dennis watched Joseph leave in the van, intrigued by the olive branch that he had offered to the group. He took a deep breath and winced when the cold sliced into his lungs. They would need to leave soon to stay a step ahead of the enemy, and the weather.

He got in the car as quietly as he could, but the car was an old sedan, and he had to essentially slam the door for it to close properly.

Casey stirred in the back seat, shrugging off Dr Whittington’s coat. Dennis had been reluctant to have anything to do with that bastard or his clothing, but keeping Casey warm was a priority.

She murmured sleepily, “Dad? Are we stopping for gas?”

Dennis turned to watch her carefully, but didn’t say anything just yet.

Casey scrubbed at her eyes, wincing at the white light bouncing off the settled snow outside. She scrunched up her hair, and let out a small hum of displeasure at its texture. She sat up gradually, bracing against the door.

“Where are we?” she asked, voice husky from disuse.

“Casey, do you know who I am?”

She frowned, and finally looked at him with clear eyes. “Oh. Dennis. Was I dreaming?”

He tried to hide the rush of relief he felt when she recognized him. “Probably. You thought I was your father.”

She sighed. “At least I didn’t think you were John.”

Dennis frowned at the flippant mention of her abuser. “To answer your first question, we’re not far from Westminster, Maryland. We’ve got to leave soon.”

“The Trinity,” she said slowly. “Yes, I think… I think I remember.”

“Don’t worry about anything, Casey. Just get some rest.”

“I think I’ll sit up front with you for a while, if that’s okay. I like watching the road.”

He nodded, and Casey inelegantly climbed over the center console to get to the front seat. Dennis closed his eyes as she settled herself; instead of catching her familiar scent as she went past, she smelled of metal and Dr Whittington’s vile aftershave. That would have to change, and soon.

He had their destination set and concentrated on driving through the flurries of snow, but his mind was never far from the trembling girl sitting beside him.

*

*

*

Casey didn’t want to sleep again that night. Her eyes were glued to the road and the passing scenery. She was still trying to convince herself that this was real, she was free, and not something her mind had come up with.

She could only recall scraps of the past few hours. She remembered that Joseph had been there for a bit, and that Dr Whittington had blood on his face. She remembered how she felt when the Beast was set loose, the absolute terror she had been unable to quench.

It was so fuzzy, like watching a TV channel between two stations. She found it hard to follow through on any one chain of thought before drifting onto the next one, and it was incredibly frustrating.

She looked down at her wrists, dried blood still dotting her skin. If she moved them too much, she felt the stinging of the cuts reopening. It was fascinating, that there was still something left to bleed, that she had something left to give, when she already felt so drained.

“Stop that,” Dennis said quietly.

She clenched her hands in her lap and resolutely looked out the window at the passing streetlights. She hadn’t thought he’d been paying attention.

_Why should he care if you hurt yourself? After everything he did to you?_

She felt the thought grow, and it began buzzing around in her skull like a trapped wasp.

She saw the strobe light flash, and heard herself repeating after Dr Whittington, the words throbbing in time with her terrified breathing.

_Dennis is dangerous. Dennis is your enemy. Dennis is dangerous. He is a disciple of the Beast. Dennis is dangerous. He’s a predator. Dennis is dangerous. He’s just like John._

But something else started to come to her mind, like a fresh breeze blowing away the stench of fear. She remembered how it had felt to embrace him at the roadside rest stop, to have her head cradled against his chest. She remembered feeling such a sense of peace and safety, holding his hand on the way back to the car.

The beautiful moment was suddenly tainted with the knowledge that it was wrong, she knew that it was wrong, Dr Whittington had said so, of course she’d been drawn to Dennis for all the wrong reasons…

She clenched her hands in her hair, trying to stop her head from splitting in two.

“Stop the car,” she choked out.

To Dennis’ credit, he didn’t hesitate. The tires screeched in protest as he pulled onto the hard shoulder, and she immediately stumbled out to vomit over the weed-spotted tarmac.

He was around to her side of the car in seconds, but she held her hand out to keep him at a distance.

“Don’t, please,” she groaned.

He stopped short of her, tense like a coiled spring, as she tried to catch her breath. He was silhouetted in the glow of the headlights, so his expression was hidden from her. Casey wasn’t used to other people’s motivations being a mystery to her. Being unable to get a read on Dennis, on what he wanted from her, was terrifying. It reinforced everything horrible that Dr Whittington had said about Kevin’s undesirable alters, and eroded away the trust she had built with him on her own.

Her head felt like it would explode at the slightest movement, as she tried to make sense of her own mind. _He’s the enemy. He’s unstable. He’s a predator._ But also, _he’s a friend. He’s all we have. He’s not the Beast. He saved us._

“Casey, tell me how I can help you.”

She pushed her hair back behind her ears, wincing when she felt some of her sick sticking to the strands. She tried to laugh, but it sounded pathetic. “Can you make me stop thinking?”

He paused. “Do you want one of the others?”

She considered it for a long moment. She closed her eyes against his judgement as she whispered, “Could I speak to Kevin, please?”

He was silent for so long that she thought that he wouldn’t do it, but without even a goodbye, he shifted.

“Casey? Thank god, I feared the worst,” Kevin said softly. He crouched down to her level, and she finally managed to look at him.

It was hard to describe why she felt an immediate sense of relief; perhaps she had never seen Kevin as anything but a fellow victim, so in this moment, he was kin. She fell into his embrace, and he almost lost balance before catching himself against the side of the car. He patted her hair as she tried to cry with tortured convulsions.

“It’s going to be okay. We’ll take care of it,” Kevin whispered. They slid to be seated on the freezing ground, with Casey curled into a ball against Kevin, and his arms caged around her.

She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d called him, over Barry or one of the other alters. Maybe it was because he was the original, and he knew the feeling of parts of your person splintering off into different parts, fighting with yourself for the right to be acknowledged. Maybe it was because she’d seen him so vulnerable, back when she’d first called him to the Light. He’d taken charge and told her that it was his fault, and he needed to take the punishment. He’d asked her to kill him, and he’d known that it was the sacrifice he had to make.

“Kevin?” she managed to gasp.

“Yes?”

“My mind is no longer my own,” she said hoarsely. That much, she knew. Which parts were real and which parts fake… that was the real question.

“I’m so sorry, Casey,” he whispered. “What can we do?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “If I don’t get better, or if I get violent, or if I don’t come back… you need to promise me.”

_Kill me. Then kill me._

He looked at her in horror, knowing exactly what she was asking him to do. “Don’t ask that of me, Casey. I’m not as strong as you, I couldn’t…”

“But I don’t want to live like this, I can’t!” she hissed as the headache pushed against her eyes, leaving black spots in her vision like blots of ink.

“It’ll get better, Casey. Whatever they did to your beautiful mind, it’s temporary. We have to believe that, okay? You’ll be back to yourself in no time. You’re stronger than that, you’re stronger than all of us.”

His comforting words seemed to turn sour, and she shuddered from more than just the cold. She felt a wave of self-loathing rush over her. She was dangerous, and she’d brought nothing but pain to those around her. She was falling back in with the Horde, just as she was warned against. Dr Whittington might have been manipulating her, but there were grains of truth in his words, weren’t there? She’d survived because she was broken, when Claire and Marcia hadn’t, and her continued existence was a slap in the face to the innocent people she wanted to protect.

She didn’t deserve the happiness that she was sure was just around the corner, if she let Kevin or one of the others take control and lead her away. She shouldn’t be allowed to have a friend. Even Hedwig should stay away from her, like she was poison. They should feel disgusted to even touch her.

_I’m nothing._

He was rocking her back and forth, and it felt like when he father used to carry her to bed after a long car trip. He would always get her out of the car and tuck her in bed, before even turning off the car engine or taking off his muddy boots. First and foremost, he made sure she was safe and loved.

Just as suddenly as the headache had come, it passed. She took what seemed like the first proper lungful of air in hours.

“Casey?” Kevin asked, feeling her relaxing into his grip.

She held up her hands to blow some warmth into them, relishing the change in temperature. “I think it passed. Whatever it was…”

“Was it like a panic attack?”

She nodded slowly, still trying to piece everything together. “It felt like someone just… switched. It didn’t feel like me.”

“Like an alter?” he asked in alarm.

“I don’t think so. Have you ever… gone to bed feeling happy, but woken up depressed for no obvious reason, and it’s like everything in the world is a different color?”

“You know that I have,” he said softly.

Casey gripped one of his hands with hers in solidarity. “It was like that, but… angry. Red. It felt like I’d lost an important part of myself, and only the ugly emotions were left. I wanted to believe the worst of myself.”

Kevin shuddered. “That must be horrible. Not even Dennis is that far gone.”

“Is the Beast like that?”

He thought for a moment, his thumb stroking the back of her hand absently. “He’s not an alter like the others. The rest were created because I needed someone, a specific person with qualities that I didn’t possess. I wasn’t anywhere near the Light when the others started to call for him. I know that I don’t want or need the Beast, no matter how much it says that it wants to protect me. To the Beast I’m just a vessel, instead of a partner.”

She found some comfort in the fact that her own episode didn’t sound like an alternative personality coming forward, or her own personal Beast being unleashed. If she started being an actual danger to others, she would have to hold Kevin to his promise to put her down.

“If I had to guess, whatever that doctor was doing to brainwash you has created a kind of rift. Do you remember what he was doing?”

_Concentrate, Casey. Repeat after me._

“I’m not entirely sure, but I know he wanted to talk a lot about the past. He wanted me to believe some things that weren’t real,” she said, with more conviction than she felt. “He wanted me to hate you as well.”

“If he was trying to re-write your memories, that means you’re holding two conflicting narratives in your head. No wonder it’s confusing or painful when you’re flipping between them.”

She considered that for a long time, before becoming aware that she couldn’t feel most of her legs anymore.

“Let’s get back in the warmth,” she suggested. She struggled to stand, and Kevin helped her get back in the passenger seat before returning to the driver’s side.

“You know, I haven’t driven a car in a long time,” he said, touching the steering wheel almost reverently. “But I don’t think now is the time.”

“Are you leaving?” Casey asked, hating how desperate her question sounded.

“I won’t be far away, not anymore. But it still feels strange to be in the Light for so long, as lovely as it is to be spending my time with you.” He smiled. “Besides, I know that Dennis has been worried about you. He’s pretty restless right now; is it okay if he comes forward?”

“Yes, I’d like to talk to him. See you soon, Kevin,” she said softly.

“Stay strong, Casey. I know you can get through this. I’m only a call away.”

Dennis emerged, his face carefully blank.

Casey knew that he’d been offended that she’d reached out to Kevin in her time of need, instead of him, when they’d been through so much together. She felt the need to make it right.

“I’m sorry that you couldn’t be there,” Casey said immediately. “Whatever the doctor was doing to me, he made me… afraid of you, and what you can do. I needed someone else to bring me back.”

“I understand,” he said stiffly.

“No, I don’t think you do,” Casey said softly. “I’m not afraid of you, Dennis. You know that, right?”

He looked at her, his face washed in the yellow light of the nearby streetlight. “You ought to be.”

“My promise still holds. However long it takes, you can be honest with me about how you feel. But if another attack happens, and I forget what we have… please don’t hate me. I couldn’t stand it if you hated me.”

His expression softened slightly. “I don’t think I could ever hate you, Casey. It’s hard to see you suffering like that.”

She nodded, and put her seatbelt on resolutely. “I’m sure we still have a ways to go. Let’s hit the road.”

*

*

*

By the time they pulled in, dawn was just breaking over the snow-covered roofs of the suburban cul-de-sac.

Dennis drove them up a winding concrete driveway at the end, to a house set back from the street, and largely hidden by a copse of pines. It was a little old weatherboard home, sturdy but in need of some TLC. There were no signs that anyone lived there, as the driveway and the path hadn’t been shoveled in some time, and the little porch was littered with autumn leaves.

Casey didn’t even ask whose house it was, and whether they were safe there. That was what concerned Dennis the most as he trampled a path to the front door through the snow. Where was her sense of self-preservation, her stubborn need to know everything?

“Stay here a moment,” he murmured to her, and she sat on the top step with an exhausted nod.

He managed to get out to the back shed, and found the keys in the woodpile, just as he’d expected. He wiped some of the rust off with a cloth as he came back around, already itching to clean it properly.

The door was slightly stuck, swollen from all of the moisture in the air, but with a shove he managed to push it open.

The interior was dusty, but neatly kept. The furniture was antique but well-used, and covered in lacy doilies and ceramic keepsakes.

He checked all the rooms, and made note on what needed to be done to make it comfortable for them.

“Come in, Casey. The coast is clear,” he said, returning to the front hall. She made her way inside, and barely looked around.

“You should have a shower, then I can take a look at your wrists,” Dennis said. “I’ll get it started.”

Thankfully, there was some hot water connected, even though it took a few minutes for the pipes to groan and spit it out. Casey followed behind him and sat on the edge of the tub, still holding the coat tightly around her as she shivered constantly.

“I’ll find something for you to wear.”

Casey nodded, and finally started shedding her layers. Dennis left to give her privacy, but as he was pulling the door shut behind him he caught a fleeting glimpse of the ivory skin of her back.

He took some deep breaths to refocus on the task at hand, and then started rummaging through the bedroom to find some appropriate clothes.

It was difficult, but he eventually came up with some long linen pants and a grey woolen tunic, both slightly too big for Casey. Combined with a white undershirt, she should be warm and comfortable enough.

He listened carefully to know when the water was shut off, and then waited a few more minutes. He knocked, assuming that she would be dried off and wrapped in a towel by now.

“Yes?”

“I’ll hand you some clothes, if you’re ready,” he said. The door opened a little and he shoved the clothes in, laid over his arm. Some steam escaped the bathroom as she reached out to take the clothes.

She thanked him before closing the door again.

He went into the little kitchen to take stock. It was an old set up, but the appliances seemed to work fine. He also unpacked some of his toolbox, starting with the first aid kit that Orwell had itemized for them.

He heard Casey leave the bathroom with a few stumbling steps, and immediately went to help her.

She was swaying on the spot, the warmth of the water obviously putting her on the edge of sleep.

“Let’s wrap those up and then you can get some rest,” he said, motioning to her wrists. She nodded, and he followed her into the bathroom.

He had her sit on the closed toilet as he unpacked the first aid essentials. His hands trembled slightly as he took hers, but she barely reacted as he began applying some antiseptic to the worst of the wounds, although it must have stung.

He wrapped them in some crepe bandage and tried to ignore how close she was, how he could feel her steady breath on his scalp as he leaned in to inspect his work.

“All done,” he said finally.

She tested the flexibility of her wrists, and was obviously satisfied, as she spared him a small smile.

He led her to the bedroom, which had a rickety double bed covered in quilts and throw pillows. She immediately made herself comfortable under the mounds of blankets, and blinked up at him as she said, “Don’t worry about me.”

He frowned at her strange announcement, but she slipped into sleep so quickly that he couldn’t ask what she meant by it. He waited by the bedside for a long time, telling himself that he was just worried about how the Trinity’s drugs would still be affecting her. In reality, he watched a strand of hair blow back and forth with her steady breath, and the slow flickering of her eyes moving under her pale eyelids. 

Was she having nightmares, or pleasant dreams?

He shook himself, and quietly left Casey to her rest. There was still so much to get done, and the group needed to take every precaution from now on. They wouldn’t lose her again.

*


	16. The Detox

*

Her dreams were fragmented, coming together and flying apart like a school of fish. She found herself on the edge of consciousness more than once before being dragged back down into the depths.

_She saw each of the alters in turn, not with Kevin’s body, but as their own people, sitting in a room and arguing over who would get to kill her._

_The one who was non-human won by crushing the rest of the alters in his arms, almost snapping them in half; but they seemed to welcome their own slaughter, and Casey felt revulsion at their calm acceptance of death. She stared into Hedwig’s glassy eyes, no longer full of joy, and wanted to weep._

_Once he had finally killed every alter, the Beast beckoned her in, to claim her life as his prize. He leaned in as though for a kiss, but bent down and ripped out her throat. She was completely silent as she started drowning in her own blood, fingernails scratching at the beast's tough skin, as Dr Whittington laughed..._

She awoke to the sound of someone screaming, and realized it was her own voice. It was almost a relief that she had not been silenced in her sleep.

In the haze of the dawn light, she tried to shake off the wisps of fear that swirled around her.

Kevin or one of his alters came barreling down the hallway, but paused outside of her half-open door, unsure if they would be welcome.

"Just a bad dream, just a bad dream," she repeated to herself, like a mantra.

"Case?"

It was Hedwig. 

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," she said, her voice hoarse from the scream and her dry mouth. She sat up and rearranged the pillows somewhat so she'd be mostly upright.

He almost tip-toed in, and his hesitance made her smile despite herself. He must have been given very specific instructions not to disturb her. He was wearing a blue wooly jumper and Dennis' black slacks, so maybe they'd been unable to find any other clothes that would suit Hedwig.

"Mr Dennis says that I shouldn't wake you up, but now you're awake all on your own," he lisped. "You screamed real loud. Was there a spider or something? Girls are scared of spiders but I love 'em."

"I'm not scared of spiders. But if I was, I'd call you to take care of it," she promised. She patted the bed next to her, and he made himself comfortable on the patchwork bedspread, legs crossed to keep his feet warm under his legs.

"It's nice to see you again. The others said that you weren't coming back," he said. "But because you're our friend, I knew that they were fibbing."

Casey knew that her return hadn’t been a guarantee. There was every chance that she would have remained in that prison, or died there. Nevertheless, she smiled at Hedwig’s loyalty. "I didn't meant to go away. But I'm happy to be back."

"This place is boring, it doesn't even have TV," he complained. "Once you're all better we can go outside and have a snowball fight!"

"That's a great idea," Casey said, privately wondering when she would be better. If not this winter, they might miss out on their opportunity. She didn’t want to give him any false hope.

Hedwig shivered, and Casey took pity on him. She pulled back the covers slightly, and he jumped in beside her. Their feet brushes under the covers, and Casey yelped at how cold they were.

"Hedwig, _so_  not cool!"

"I can't help it, we don't have any good socks ‘cause Mr Dennis is washing them," he pouted as he snuggled up against her. "You're real warm though. Like a heat lamp in a snake tank. They're cold-blooded, y’know."

She wondered if this closeness would be triggering to her, especially given the content of her nightmares, but she was so exhausted that it was barely a fleeting worry. Instead she took comfort in his solid warmth pressed against her, and the little puffs of breath that tickled her neck as he began to sleep on her shoulder.

Her arm was gradually going numb from his weight, but she was so lethargic that she didn't bother to move.

After an hour or so, judging by the slow march of sunlight across the dusty carpet, she started feeling strange.

At first she thought it was just from being in one place for so long that her muscles started twinging. But they grew into pins and needles in her hands and feet, and then little electric shocks up her arms and legs, finally radiating into her skull. The sensation was more alarming than painful, and she started jumping every time it suddenly ran through her body.

"Hedwig, wake up," she said urgently, trying to nudge him. He grumbled and shifted, but didn't wake up.

The next shock was like holding onto an electric fence, and she began to panic. "Hedwig! Wake up!"

He jerked awake, almost falling out of the narrow bed, and he looked so confused to be there that Casey was sure that it wasn't Hedwig anymore.

That was the last thing she could be certain of before the pain took over.

*

When Barry woke up against Casey, he knew exactly who had brought them there. Hedwig was hard to handle, but his affection for Casey was grounding.

Casey had nudged him awake, but now she was convulsing uncontrollably like a puppet being jerked by its invisible strings.

It looked like a seizure, although Barry couldn't remember if he'd ever seen one in real like and not on TV. He leapt out of the bed and tried to monitor her condition without being hit. Her eyes were rolling and she might have bitten her tongue, as there was some blood on her lips.

It was terrifying to witness, but he stuck with her, propping pillows and blankets against the bed-head to cushion her blows, patting her hair away from her face, pulling the blankets back up when they slipped to the side. After only a minute or two she started to settle down.

She was sweating, and her forehead felt burning hot. She didn't seem to regain consciousness completely, although her eyes fluttered open briefly whenever he said her name.

He retrieved a cloth and some cool water from the bathroom and started sponging her face and neck, hoping that it was the proper thing to do for a fever.

*

The next few days blurred together into an exhausting routine.

Some of the alters took turns keeping watch over Casey, feeling determined to help but also powerless against the illness that gripped her.

Patricia said that Casey was going through a withdrawal from all of the drugs the Trinity had probably been plying her with for those two weeks of captivity. Her symptoms seemed to match this unofficial diagnosis; she was alternating hot and cold, didn't seem to be aware of her surroundings, and occasionally vomited or relieved her bladder without realizing.

She was already so pale and thin from her time at the Trinity base, but she was still declining. She was unable to keep down foods or most liquids, and Patricia was privately afraid for a while that they would lose her.

Slowly but surely, the worst attacks dwindled, and her convulsions subsided entirely. They waited for her to wake up with varying levels of patience.

*

Casey gradually became aware of the weight of her own body pressing against the mattress, like she was made of lead. She opened her eyes and stared at the cracked plaster on the ceiling, wondering whether she was still in the house that Dennis had brought her to.

She licked her lips and winced as how dry they were, cracked and sore. How long had she been asleep?

"Ah, you're awake."

Patricia came into view, smiling down at Casey like a god viewing her creation. "I was hoping that you would be better today."

"Wha..."

"Shh shh shh," Patricia said, pressing a delicate finger against her jaw. "I'll tell you what I know. Apparently the Balance Trinity have been rather experimental in their methods. You have been in the throes of a nasty drug withdrawal for three days now."

_Three days?_

"We were quite worried that you required medical care beyond our scope, but you're extraordinarily resilient, aren't you? Your body is on its way to recovery, and we'll see whether your mind is also."

"Water?" Casey whispered, and Patricia obliged. She produced a glass of water seemingly out of nowhere and helped Casey prop herself up on the pillows to take slow, careful sips. Casey could taste blood in the first few sips, from her lips and what appeared to be a cut on her tongue.

Even this small act was exhausting. Patricia had to hold her head up, and Casey could feel where her strong fingers were pressed into the back of her head, although it was curiously lumpy.

"Did you braid my hair?" she asked sleepily, as Patricia lay her head back down.

"That was Jade. She was quite excited to have such a beautiful model. I hope you don't mind."

"I'm sure it's pretty," she slurred, "I don't mind at all."

*

Patricia let her doze, comforted by the knowledge that she was beginning to be more aware of her surroundings. She knew that after Casey started recovering, the others would request more and more of the Light. She was such a favorite, and Patricia was reluctant to keep her from the group. As she was still feeling some contrition for her treatment of the needs of the group, and she needed to reflect further on the nature of her beliefs, she found herself resigned to the darkness for just a little while longer. Once the group realized that true balance required all of the alters to work together, she would be called.

*

Kevin was sleeping in a chair beside her bed, his head bowed onto his chest. His face was slack and his expression peaceful, and she hated to be the one to interrupt it, but her bodily functions were screaming at her.

"Patricia?" she asked, recalling that she was the last alter to attend to her. "Or..."

He stirred at her soft call, and blinked away the grit in his eyes. "No, it's Barry. How are you feeling this morning, sleeping beauty?"

"Busting," she admitted.

"Well, let's get that sorted," he said with a little too much cheer.

It was quite the operation to get her standing, and Barry had to hunch down for her arm to wind around his shoulders for support. They had to shuffle sideways through the doorways to get her into the bathroom. The tiles were cold on her feet, and Barry laid down some bathmats for her before leaving her with a moment of privacy.

She relieved herself, and braced herself against the vanity to wash her hands. She took a peek under the bandages on her wrists, and judged her cuts to be pretty much healed. She rolled up the crepe bandages neatly and placed them on the vanity.

Once she called for Barry, he came in to run a bath. "We have some essential oils here… chamomile or rosehip? I'm afraid we're limited to those choices, so you'll be an old lady regardless."

Casey chuckled. "Chamomile, since you've sold it so well."

He measured out a few drops of the oil into the water, which looked so warm and deep that Casey felt it was calling to her. She felt filthy, still in the same makeshift pajamas that Dennis had selected for her, and she was pretty sure that she smelled equally terrible. Jade may have braided her hair, but it was still in dire need of a wash.

"Do you want privacy, or shall I give you a hand getting in? I promise not to ogle, and I'm afraid it's nothing we haven't seen over the past few days," Barry said gently.

She blushed at the thought, but had to be practical. "In that case, I think I'll need some help."

She stripped reluctantly, having never stopped feeling self-conscious about her body, and her scars. Although she suspected that Barry would never have a romantic attachment to her, it was still strange having a man help her step into the slippery tub and ease her into the scalding water.

"There we go," Barry said once she was settled. "Is the temp okay?"

"It's wonderful," she sighed, and let out an embarrassing groan as she slipped in further and the warm water softened her aching muscles. She felt like she’d run a mile, although she hadn’t left the bed in three days.

"I'll leave you to it, then," Barry replied, but his words came out slightly strangled. He left quickly.

Casey frowned, wondering if there had been a different alter close to the Light that had been disturbed by her nudity.

She didn't allow herself to speculate any further. Instead she took her time with the bar of soap left on the edge of the tub, even using it on her hair, although it would be dry and brittle until she could get some actual conditioner in it. Better than its current state.

Her arms were heavy and tired by the time she'd rinsed the suds away, and she frowned as she realized how thin they'd become. Her time in the cell had taken its toll, plus the last few days of illness. She felt a wave of hatred for Sadie Prescott and her gang, but also a surge of satisfaction that they'd managed to disappear from right under their noses.

In the case of Dr Whittington, his very crooked nose. She would have to remind herself, next time Dennis was in the Light, to thank him for his quick act of violence.

Her head was clearing, she noted. Only a few days ago she hadn't been sure if Dr Whittington was helping her or harming her, but now she knew for sure that he had been poisoning her mind and body. It was encouraging, and she hoped that her clarity would last.

She wondered how quickly they could get to Baltimore so she could get her revenge on Dr Whittington, but she also knew that a good hunter had patience. She would have to grow stronger, more skilled, before stalking her prey. She knew that Kevin's group would help her. They would hardly refuse her anything, and she had to ensure that she wasn’t abusing that trust. Especially if she was putting them in the path of the Balance Trinity.

The water was almost cold and her skin was pruning as she hoisted herself out of the bath, wrapping the towel around herself. Barry hadn’t laid out any clothes, so she knocked on the outer door to let him know that she was ready.

Barry held out the blue woolen jumper that she’d seen on Hedwig, a white undershirt, and some flannel pants.

“Sorry, darl. We haven’t had the chance to go shopping yet, but we’ll do better soon.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Casey reassured him.

“We’ll be in the lounge when you’re done. You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

She heard him pace down the hall, and the tell-tale sound of some pots and pans being arranged. She dressed slowly, taking breaks to conserve her energy. By the time she made her way down the hall and into the lounge room, she basically collapsed on the sofa.

“Good morning, Casey.”

She recognized his voice immediately. “Morning, Dennis.”

He sat on the end of her sofa, his hands gripping his knees. His eyes found hers, and she smiled briefly.

“It’s encouraging to see you awake again,” he said finally.

“Patricia said I was having withdrawals. I don’t remember much of it.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

She drew her knees into her chest, trying to stave off the cold. Dennis stood up and swiftly retrieved a thick blanket, laying it over the arm of the sofa.

“Thanks,” she said, unfolding it and tucking it around herself.

“I’m making some soup,” he said abruptly. “It will be ready soon.”

He left for the kitchen, and after a few minutes of the aroma wafting towards her, she joined him. She took the blanket with her, draping it around herself like a poncho, as she took a seat at the kitchen table. It was pitted with age and the many strikes of kitchenware.

“Whose house is this?” Casey asked curiously.

Dennis paused in his stirring for only a moment. “Dr Fletcher had a few patients with DID. She wanted to have a good sample for her work, not just me. I met only one of them in my many years in therapy.”

“This is their house?”

“In a way. We only met Karla, one of the alters, when we crossed paths before Barry’s session. I believe the original was an older woman named Helen Yung. She died late last year. Dr Fletcher had to call off our scheduled appointment to attend the funeral.” He paused. “It was in the newspaper, as a legal oddity caught the public’s attention. It seems that Helen had left some of her property to the other alters, and vice versa. There were many claims made on the estate by her relatives, but they first had to prove that all of the alters referred to in her Will were not actual individuals who could dispute the estate.”

Casey frowned. “Surely Dr Fletcher could have cleared it up?”

“Apparently she refused to get involved, or release her records of the names of the alters. She took her patient confidentiality very seriously.”

Casey recalled the files that she’d seen at the police precinct when she was giving her statement, and knew that most of what they’d learned about Kevin Wendell Crumb had come from Dr Fletcher’s private notes only after her death.

“So this house belonged to Helen Yung, but no one can do anything with it until the judge rules,” Casey summarized.

“Exactly. We’re safe here until the decision is handed down, which from my research, may take several months.”

Casey had to admit that it was a clever hiding place.

Dennis poured out two precisely equal bowls of soup, which smelled like chicken stock and onions.

“Thank you,” she said politely as he lay one bowl in front of her, and lined up the soup spoon precisely parallel to the edge of the square table.

He sat opposite her and started on his own meal. It was strangely domestic, and Casey was very self-conscious of every unintentional slurp or drip of soup that escaped her. She was still fairly weak, so the spoon trembled in her grip.

She managed about half of the bowl before admitting defeat.

“I think I’ll go back to bed for a bit,” she sighed.

He stood up first to help her rise from the chair, as stiff and formal as ever. But his grip was light on her arm, and he was responsive to her every step and near-stumble as they went down the hallway. She leaned into his side, and he didn’t shy away.

The bedsheets had been changed, and it was made with military precision. She slipped under the covers, and Dennis ensured that the bedside table was stocked with a glass of water and a book in easy reach.

“I hate being like this,” Casey grumbled.

“Being ill is not a weakness,” Dennis said, “But I understand the frustration. You will get stronger soon.”

He reached out to grasp her hand, laying on top of the covers, and she wondered why the gesture felt so familiar.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psst, many of the Horde on Tumblr and AO3 have gathered in a Discord chat. It's a safe place for fan art, headcanons, weird GIFs, and every imaginable analysis of Split/Glass that you could imagine. Join us! hhttps://discord.gg/jtcVkB9 (and make sure you read the rules, we want the space to remain awesome for everyone in the fandom)
> 
> Casey's symptoms were inspired by my own experience. When I was coming off some mind-altering medication, I had the sensation of electric shocks shooting up and down my body. Hence, poor Casey gets some too. I don't make the rules.


	17. Wish you were here

When Casey next woke up, she was feeling much stronger for the meal she’d shared with Dennis. She was content to sit on the sofa and read one of the many books left behind by Helen Yung, although her library was eclectic—rather, her alters had a lot of different tastes. Casey settled in with an Agatha Christie and a cup of tea while Barry curled up with some trashy romance novel.

He also had some good news to share with her. Due to the long winter months and the high number of retirees in the area, there was a local service that would do your shopping for you and drop them on your porch. Dennis had called them the day before with a specific list and a promise of cash on delivery, and now they had some new (if not trendy) clothes to choose from.

They sat on the couch with the box of goodies. “It’s like Christmas,” Casey said wryly.

“Then you’ve been good this year,” Barry chuckled. “Let’s see what Santa brought.”

They sorted through the bits and pieces, setting aside the clothes that fit each of them, but mostly looking at the preserved food and hygiene products. When she came across a small tub of aloe vera ointment for ‘ _repairing scar tissue and reducing irritation’_ , she frowned.

“What is this for?”

“Ah.”

She looked at Barry, who suddenly sounded very guilty.

“We couldn’t help but notice… you have some new war wounds.”

She frowned before realizing what he was referring to. She’d covered herself in blisters to fake illness at the Trinity base, and the marks that remained were still red and raised. “The welts?”

“We didn’t want to bring it up, but… did the Trinity do that to you, honey?”

She held onto the little aloe vera tub so tightly that she was afraid it would burst. “I did it to myself,” she whispered.

“What?”

She was reminded then of how little she’d actually told the group about her time in the facility. They’d comforted her through her nightmares, her withdrawals, but they’d been completely left in the dark about what she’d experienced.

She took a deep breath. “I needed an excuse to get out of my cell. The only thing I could think of was to fake a medical emergency. But it had to look good.”

She saw the sympathy fall over Barry’s face as he twigged.

“I made myself throw up, but I also… burned myself. To look like some kind of rash, so they’d take me seriously.”

“That’s when you were taken to the clinic, and you called us.”

She nodded, remembering the terror she felt once she’d blocked herself in the office.

“So you weren’t trying to escape?”

“It was virtually impossible, I knew that. But I had to tell you that I was alive, and it was all a trap,” she explained.

Barry just looked at her, seemingly confused.

“What?”

“You… went through that risk, that pain, just to tell us to leave you there?” He asked slowly. “Just to tell us to protect ourselves instead of you?”

She felt a little hurt by the criticism. “It wasn’t much, but it was all I could come up with on short-”

“You’re incredible!”

“-notice. What?”

His eyes were shining with pride. “Girl, aren’t you aware how insane that is? No one has never done so much for us. Hell, no one even would. Just you.”

She looked back down at the aloe vera ointment, speechless at Barry’s outpouring. She didn’t feel incredible. It had just been the right thing to do. Why risk getting Kevin captured, when she was already trapped there?

“I have a lot of scars anyway,” she said finally. “What’s a few more?”

Barry scooted up the sofa to sit beside her, laying one of his hands gently on hers. “If that’s how you feel, of course you don’t need to use it. Scars tell a story, right? But don’t be afraid to let these ones go. You already have that one on your calf from us, we don’t want to be the cause of any others.”

Despite herself, she smiled. “Thanks, Barry. I’ll give it a go.”

He squeezed her hand once before returning to the supplies.

*

*

*

Joseph hated answering the phone. At least, he hated those few seconds where the other person hadn’t spoken yet, and he just hoped that it was Casey or Kevin calling.

It always ended up being just another customer, and he was nothing if not professional to them. But he could tell that his dad was watching him go about his work with only half of his mind on the task.

Joseph had promised Orwell that he wouldn’t try to find them. But Orwell had promised in return that he would let Joseph know when they were safe. It had been a week without any word.

He couldn’t help but also worry about Casey’s condition. There was no way that she’d escaped unscathed. She’d been drugged, that was for sure, but was there any long-term damage yet to emerge?

Occasionally, when he found himself listening to the same old police transmissions and re-reading the same documents, he became convinced that the Balance Trinity had caught up to them. Why else would Orwell have waited so long? Joseph knew how technologically advanced and well-funded the Trinity were; did Orwell really think that they could outrun the Trinity forever?

Feeling at a loose end, and wanting to talk to someone who understood the showdown at Raven Hill, he reached out to Mrs Price. She was grateful to have him drive her to appointments or the markets when it was too slippery to go on the sidewalk. Joseph regularly took her to the comic book store, and they always came out with a new comic or two. Usually they weren’t even from the same series—they just wanted to try something different, explore a new world together.

Mrs Price was curiously philosophical about her son’s crimes. Joseph supposed she’d had a lot of time to come to terms with them. It was obvious just how much she loved him, and that she had experienced a lot of pain through their connection. He didn’t know if he would have had the strength to stick by his dad if he used his powers for evil, instead of for good.

She invited him over to make home-baked scones that smelled heavenly even when they were just starting to rise. She had some amazing stories to tell, not all about her son; she’d accomplished some great things throughout her life. She was the first black woman to manage a bank branch in the state of Pennsylvania, she told him proudly.

In return, Joseph found himself telling her more and more about what he’d discovered about the Balance Trinity. Initially he just wanted to ensure that she was kept safe, and he told her to be on the lookout for any suspicious characters. He longed to tell her that Casey Cooke was alive and well, but always stopped himself just in time.

The next time he came over, she asked him to call her Esther. “Isn’t it strange,” she said over a cup of tea, “That we have so many Biblical names between us? Esther, Elijah, David, Joseph…”

“Not Kevin or Casey,” Joseph responded without thinking.

“Ah, but they’re both old Irish names. Fitting, isn’t it?”

When he later reflected on their conversations, Joseph realized that Esther Price probably knew more than she was letting on.

He always was a terrible liar.

When Joseph came home that evening there was a single postcard propped up against the coffee-maker on the kitchen bench.

It was a nauseatingly twee woodland scene, with a lot of wide-eyed cartoon animals gathered around a bonfire.

He turned it over with a trembling hand.

_Wish you were here. – K & C_

His whoop of joy was so loud that David heard it from his gym in the basement. He rolled his eyes and got back to his workout.

*

*

*

“Ah, Albert. You’re looking better already.”

Dr Whittington looked blankly at Sadie Prescott. He wanted to sneer at her empty platitude, but every movement of his face was still agony. The surgery had gone well enough, but the bruising was still like a splatter on the centre of his face. It had also pooled under his eyelids, leaving him looking perpetually tired.

“Thank you, Sadie. The prognosis is fair,” he replied curtly.

He hated all of the cloak and dagger stuff that the Balance Trinity insisted upon, but there were very few things that could sway Sadie once she’d set her mind to it. Therefore they were meeting in the darkened foyer of a movie theatre, which was playing some old Hitchcock classic to a mostly empty theatre for three dollars a session.

It was a suitably dramatic rendez-vous.

“You’ll be pleased to hear that we have exposed the cause of our security breach,” Sadie said. Albert could smell the cigarette smoke on her, just above the cloying scent of buttered popcorn.

“Fine,” he grunted, not really caring about her little witch-hunt. “And the girl?”

“Still off the grid. We have reason to believe that the Horde is with her, as he was sighted several times within the facility.”

“Before he stole my car, you mean.”

Sadie waved one perfectly manicured hand. “Details, Albert. Besides, it was returned to you, was it not?”

He sighed. “Well, at least the presence of the Horde may provide us with an opportunity.”

“What do you mean?”

“After my therapy, Casey was terrified of them. If I’d only had more time, she could have been a valuable asset. Still, I think she will not remain with the Horde for long. And when they are separated, they will make mistakes.”

“So far, we have been the ones making mistakes,” Sadie said bitterly. “First Dr Staple and that damn Raven Hill footage, and now we have nothing to show for our efforts since the escape.”

“Mr Glass is dead, and the Overseer contained. Is that not enough?”

She glanced at him with flinty eyes. “Enough? My dear Albert, you know that we do not do half-measures. Merely _contained_ the Overseer could still cause quite the PR disaster. We don’t need a resident _super-hero_.”

“I’m assuming you have a plan then.”

She thought about how David Dunn had practically laughed in their faces when they went to confront him with their armed forces, and the moment when she’d realised just how much she had underestimated her enemies. Once she had come to terms with her lack of insight, new ideas had blossomed.

Her answering smile was sinister, and Dr Whittington was glad he was on her side.

“Oh, yes. I have a plan for Mr David Dunn.”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay, guys! Busy time at work for me this month.  
> (Also the Discord was popping off and taking up my prime writing time. Dennises the Menaces unite!)


	18. Menagerie

Casey lay awake that night, knowing that she needed to get her rest, but she couldn’t stop her thoughts from swirling.

She could smell the healing paste on her wrists, and smiled when she thought of Barry's little touch of kindness.

She felt the softness of her new pajamas, and remembered how scratchy the green jumpsuit had been in comparison. She’d slept in it regardless, not wanting to be naked and vulnerable in her cell, under the constant surveillance of the Balance Trinity. 

She remembered thinking that Sadie had been watching her all day, even though she surely had other duties to take care of. Maybe someone else to torture.

She dreamed of sticking a knife in her gut, seeing her smug face turn to shock, watching the blood soak through her tailored suit and start dripping on the floor. Casey knew what a deer carcass looked like, carved open for meat, but would Sadie look the same? Or would she look like Claire and Marcia, a mess of half-gnawed flesh and organs? 

Casey rubbed at her eyes and got up with a huff of annoyance. Maybe a cup of tea would help distract her. 

She tiptoed to the kitchen, past the lounge room where Kevin and his alters were sleeping. Her steps were muffled by the deep carpet runner, but the old wooden floor underneath threatened to creak with every movement.

She was consumed by the idea that she had to be quiet. Something bad would happen if he caught her. She would be punished.

Maybe the Beast would come.

She knew then that she couldn’t make a cup of tea, as the kettle would be too loud. But how could she just go back to her room, knowing that the Beast could come at any moment? She had always been cautious, always been smart… why did she ever let her guard down?

Her eyes fixed upon the knife block.

Almost in a trance, she walked to the counter and drew the largest knife. A little too heavy… she selected a smaller one with a three inch blade. Must more easily concealed, she mused. But it was sharp and it could still hit something crucial, if she got a good swing.

“Casey?”

She snarled as she spun around, ready to defend herself if needed.

She was pretty sure it was Dennis, although he didn’t have any glasses on. He’d been in the Light the most, recently.

He looked at the knife, then back up at her face. He seemed confused. “What are you doing, Casey?”

“Surviving,” she replied bluntly. “Now back off, before I do something you’ll regret.”

To her surprise, he took a seat at the small kitchen table. He was now vulnerable to her attack, if she chose to advance. “You’re having an episode, Casey. The Trinity wanted you to be afraid of me, afraid of what we can do. But it’s not true.”

“What’s not true? The part where you kidnapped me? The part where you killed innocent people?” 

“You know that we've talked about this, Casey. Think about the part where you’ve forgiven me. Don’t you remember? The Trinity may have taken your freedom, but they didn’t touch the part of you that wanted to help us.”

Her head started pounding, and she gripped the handle of the knife tighter. “No. I shouldn’t listen to you. I can’t trust anyone except myself. I’m leaving, before you try anything.”

“No, wait—”

He stood up so quickly that the chair tipped over, and after a moment, his posture shifted. 

She kept her back to the wall as she edged around the room, waiting for an indication of who had come to the Light.

“Watcha doing, Case?”

_Hedwig._

Did Dennis know that Hedwig had stolen the Light at the worst possible moment? Had Hedwig known how much danger he was putting himself in?

In that moment, Casey had no sympathy for Hedwig. Hadn’t he also paved the way for the Beast? Hadn’t he also kept them locked up, even when they begged to be set free? He was just as selfish as the rest of them. Just as thoughtless as only a kid could be.

“I’m leaving, Hedwig. Don’t try to stop me,” she warned.

His face fell. “Leaving? Where are you going?”

“Far away from you, all of you. Why would I stay here?”

“Because we’re friends, Case!” he cried. “You promised you wouldn’t go!”

“You remember the basement, don’t you Hedwig? You remember how I lied to you, and tried to trick you? Well, that’s the kind of bitch that I am. I’m not your friend.”

She left him standing there in the kitchen, stammering as he tried to respond. She grabbed the car keys from the sideboard before she ran to the bedroom and started throwing on some outside clothes. She kept the knife close by, one eye always on the closed door, waiting for Hedwig or another alter to come in.

When they tried to hurt her, this time she would be ready.

She was almost ready to go when there was a tentative knock on the door.

“Go away!” she shouted, wincing as her headache spiked.

“It’s Patricia, dear. Hedwig tells me that you’re acting strangely.”

“For once in my life, I’m doing precisely what should be done. I’m leaving.”

There was a heavy pause. “You know that I cannot stop you, Casey. We promised never to hurt you again, so I will give you some space to make your decision. But please consider the consequences.”

She walked away.

Casey looked at the car keys in her hand, and the knife in the other.

_Where would she go?_

*

*

*

When Casey finally opened the front door, Dennis was out there. The wooden bench seat creaked as he turned to look at her, his expression so much like when he’d first seen her in Mr Benoit’s car. A mixture of anger, caution, and a crack in the façade of control.

He looked at her empty hands, and the tears streaking her face, and his eyes lit up with raw hope.

“Casey?” he whispered. “Are you…”

“I’m so sorry, Dennis. I never wanted to…”

She noticed absently that he didn’t have any shoes on. It was such a small thing, but to Casey, it communicated so much. Patricia had gone outside without even pausing. They had sat out here for as long as she needed to make a decision. The dirty ground must have been pure torture, but he hadn’t relented.

All for her.

She held out a hand, and he took it instantly. She pulled him to his feet and embraced him, feeling him shiver through his thin shirt.

“Let’s go back in,” she suggested. “I have some apologies to make.”

*

*

*

Casey didn’t want to admit this, not even to herself, but she lived for the moments that Dennis was in the Light. She did have the opportunity to meet a lot of the alters that she’d only ever seen in video diaries, but they were few and far between.

She didn’t have another moment like the Knife Incident, which was a relief for all involved. She still felt some bursts of uncertainly, or aggression, or some other emotion that would violently emerge and lash out at anything and anyone. She could trace those moments definitively to Dr Whittington’s ‘therapy’, something triggering the same self-loathing and fear that she’d experienced in the car after their escape from the Balance Trinity.

Casey could tell that the alters wanted to know more about her captivity. They had only scratched the surface of what had been done to her, and they wanted desperately to help her recover. But it was taking her a while to open up, to admit to everything that had happened. This was partly because she was ashamed of some of her behavior, for going along with some of Dr Whittington’s suggestions. Even though it was brainwashing, she told herself that she could have resisted more.

It had helped, telling Barry about her self-inflicted blisters. Now she knew that she could tell her story, and not be thrown back into it.

When she told him more about Sadie Prescott, and what she’d discovered of the larger Balance Trinity and its plans, Dennis and Orwell were the ones to listen intently. They had spent so much time mining for information that would help them, and were desperate to know if their new enemy had a weakness they could exploit. Casey was constantly surprised by the amount of work that had gone into her rescue; Orwell even arranged an evening to give her a dramatic recital, and her heart thumped at the drama despite the knowledge that it would all turn out for the best.

Orwell and Joseph had taken so many risks for her. She was unused to this feeling of gratitude mixed with guilt. But she tried to move towards acceptance.

She hadn’t planned to reveal so much of the details to Dennis, but it had been eating her up inside, and she had to let it out somehow.

She had already resolved to tell him more about Dr Whittington’s ‘therapy’, and the opportunity came up quickly. The afternoon was still and the sun was warm, and although it probably wouldn’t last, Dennis agreed that they should sit outside and get some fresh air. She appreciated the change of scenery, and the sweet scent of hot chocolate curling from their mugs.

“I want to talk to you,” she said, feigning confidence that she did not entirely feel. “I want to talk about what happens, when I have my episodes.”

He nodded, and although he looked a little uncomfortable, didn’t suggest that one of the more _emotional_ alters come to the Light.

“Dr Whittington tried to make believe the worst of myself, and the worst of you,” she began.

Dennis immediately sat to attention, as though ready to knock the doctor out again at any moment.

Casey had to look away to get the rest of it out, knowing that once she had started, she wouldn’t want to stop.

“He tried to convince me that the Beast was the sum of your parts. That I couldn’t trust any of you. That I’d tried to seduce all of the alters to escape. That I’d consciously sacrificed Claire and Marcia to the Beast. That I was falling back into the same pattern of abuser and abused, codependent and exploited. But it’s not true, is it?"

He didn’t hesitate to respond. “That’s not what happened. It was completely out of your control.”

She continued, knowing that she had to be specific, knowing that she needed to hear him alleviate her fears. “He said that I’d groomed Hedwig. I couldn’t imagine ever… after when John has done, how could I…?”

“Listen to me, Casey,” he hissed. “You’re incapable of that kind of cruelty. You could never hurt a kid, like you were hurt. You did nothing to Hedwig. We wouldn’t let you hurt him, understand?”

“But why did I live, when Claire and Marcia didn’t? It was because I’m fucked up, right? The Beast knew, he sensed it, and he let me go.”

Dennis frowned, and tried to find a way to explain what he thought, without making her feel worse. “It’s not that there’s anything wrong with you. You played the game better than them, because you’d lived through it before. Because you knew that the only way to make it stop was to work through it. You were just… reacting. Adapting.”

Casey thought hard on that for a while. “Dr Henson said something similar,” she said finally. “But it’s hard to reconcile. It’s hard to look their parents in the eyes and think, _I was just better at surviving than your daughters_. _You never prepared them for the monsters, like I was prepared._ ”

Dennis didn’t know what to say to that. He would never have to look at Claire and Marcia’s parents and feel anything but responsible for their demise. There was no turmoil, only truth. He’d chosen them, out of the multitudes.

“There’s one more thing. I’m afraid… of the Beast’s plans for me.”

Dennis looked at her, uncertain if she was going to elaborate. She had to pause before continuing.

“I know I shouldn’t take anything Dr Whittington said as the truth. But it started making some sense. He said that the Beast wanted a mate. Someone else pure, to help him populate his world.”

Dennis felt horror seeping through all of the alters. Would they have sacrificed Casey to the Beast in that way, if he had asked? Would they have given her to him, as an acolyte, to continue their work? But all he felt was revulsion at the thought. Just because she wasn’t sacred food, just because she was Pure, didn’t mean she had to join the Horde.

“And when he l-licked my wrists, and helped me escape, I couldn’t help but wonder…”

“He _what?_ ”

Casey flinched at his suddenly harsh tone. “In the interrogation room, after you were forced from the Light, he used his strength to release me from the handcuffs. I thought he was going to attack me, but he just licked the cuts. Then I called Kevin into the Light.”

Dennis felt a surge of jealousy that the Beast had been the one to release her, but it was coupled with the determination to never let the Beast near her again. Even if he didn’t want to kill her, or get her to join the Horde, he couldn’t be trusted with Casey. They couldn’t see his thoughts, like they could with the normal alters.

“I wondered if he was going to take me,” she whispered.

“Never.” Dennis said coldly, clenching his fists. “That’s not going to happen.”

Dennis had his own confession to make, and he knew that it had to be now. “I didn’t want to tell you, but… after you were taken in Baltimore, I tried to call on the Beast. To go after you.”

She pursed her lips in barely suppressed anger.

He rushed to explain. “I know that I’d promised to keep him away. I promised, no more violence. But… you were in trouble. And I thought that he’d help us.”

“What happened?” Casey asked warily. She was thinking,  _who did the Beast kill? What else can I feel responsible for?_

“He didn’t come forward. None of us could call on him."

Casey sighed in relief.

"I haven’t been able to figure out precisely why… perhaps he wanted us to stay safe outside, rather than get into the building. I don’t think the Beast would risk the safety of the Horde, not even for you. He was initially… curious, that you could see the world as clearly as we can. You were the first, after all, that he had seen and judged as pure. But he doesn’t need you, and he doesn’t understand that the rest of the alters _do_ need you.”

Casey watched a bird circling through the slate grey sky. Animals at the top of the food chain, like the Beast, certainly had to look after themselves first. But there was something else she knew she had to address that didn’t fit with what Dennis was saying.

“I think there’s more to it than that,” Casey said slowly. “Especially when he scented me at Raven Hill, and now the licking at the Balance Trinity… we’re missing something. When we were in the room, and the Beast was forced into the Light, he actively helped me escape. It can’t just be that he doesn’t like me. But he was also pretty disorientated, from being brought forward by Hedwig so quickly.”

Dennis frowned, his theory falling apart as he thought more on the Beast’s behavior. The Beast wasn’t indifferent to Casey’s suffering, but he didn’t seek her out.

“You based the Beast on your knowledge of the animals of the zoo, isn’t that right?” Casey asked.

Dennis nodded. “Patricia would recite his qualities to us, like a prayer.”

“What were they?”

He closed his eyes, and the words came to him so easily, echoed inside their room by Patricia and Hedwig. “ _The skin of a rhino, the strength of a bear, the eyes of a cat, the power of a python_.”

Dennis was shocked when Casey didn’t look revolted at the description. She just smiled sadly. “What do bears and snakes have in common?”

He frowned at the unexpected question.

She waved his confusion away. “Sorry, that’s a bad way of putting it. What I’m trying to say is that bears hibernate. Snakes are cold-blooded. How do you think they deal in a cold-snap?”

Just like that, it clicked. “Are you saying that the Beast is lying dormant because of the _season_? When I called on him at Dr Whittington’s office, he was _asleep_?”

“It makes sense, right?”

Dennis couldn’t help it. He pressed his forehead into his hands, and began to laugh.

Casey soon followed suit, the absurdity of the situation catching both of them at just the right moment. Her giggles were edged with a touch of hysteria, and she soon sobered up as she kept thinking about the Beast.

“So he was forcefully called into the Light in the interrogation room, but he wasn’t fully himself. If we were to encounter each other at any other time, what do you think would happen?”

Dennis thought for a moment. “He knows that you are Pure. He knows that you are close to us. But he wouldn’t consider you or your wellbeing a part of his worldview. Does that make sense?”

She didn’t understand, he could see in the cease between her brows. But after a while she said, “It can happen in the animal kingdom, sometimes. It’s like two apex predators sizing each other up, realizing that their hunting grounds don’t intersect, and passing by.”

He felt an overwhelming rush of gratitude, that she found a way to put it into words, better than he ever had. “Exactly.”

She shivered, and said, “We should go inside. It’s getting cold again.”

Once they were shut in, she seemed somewhat lighter for a while, like she had thrown off a great burden by speaking about the Beast.

If her nightmares were worse that night, she didn’t mention it, but she had black bags under her eyes in the morning.

There were always going to be good days and bad days. But Dennis told himself that he would be there for both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Winter. Hibernation. The Beast. Feel free to discuss in comments. Also... what happens in spring? :P
> 
> P.S. I'm so sorry the the delay, guys. This week at work was pure madness. Over the past 5 days I was in 5 Australian capital cities, two regional cities, and have taken planes/trains/buses/trams/taxis and even a fricking ferry. I've never been more tired in my life.


	19. Exposure Therapy

Casey absolutely hated losing control. Having a complete lock-down over her own words and actions was the only thing that had kept her sane, growing up with Uncle John. She could hide her scars, she could act out or stay quiet, and she could be the person that everyone expected her to be. But now, if she woke screaming from a nightmare, she was unable to stop herself from lashing out, or crying, or yelling incoherently at Dennis as he tried to keep her from flipping out. It was terrifying.

Slowly but surely, these episodes diminished. She found moments of peace in their new routine, and she was able to talk herself down from doing anything stupid. As soon as she slipped into a foul mood, Dennis was there to distract her with a mug of tea or a chore. If she was beating herself up over something Dr Whittington had said, Kevin would slip into the light to comfort her.

Ever since that day she’d hugged him on the front porch, Dennis had kept his distance, unable to even sit on the same couch as her. Casey felt that she was in quarantine. He was so careful of her personal space that she wanted to scream.

Initially she didn’t understand why it was so bothersome to her. They’d both promised to respect each other’s boundaries; but she was so sure they’d been making progress. She was drawn to Dennis, to his pain, so familiar to her own. He never forgot his own failings, whether real or perceived. It must be exhausting, being so uptight. She started wondering what she could do to let him… live a little.

Eventually she decided to act.

He was cleaning the kitchen (with a dizzying amount of bleach) and Casey offered to help. Together they made short work of it. Casey made a point of brushing past him absently as they moved around each other, and she could feel his eyes following her.

She offered to empty the small kitchen bin into the trash outside. Heart thudding, she slipped on his coat for the short trip down the garden path, although her own new coat was hanging right next to it. She relished the scent of him, like she had when Hedwig had dared her to wear his shirt.

He watched her waltz back inside, toe off her boots, and make no move to take off his coat. She could feel his intense gaze across the room, as she busied herself with the door lock.

“I know what you're doing,” he said.

“Hmm?” she said innocently. If he had already caught on, maybe he wasn’t as clueless as she was envisioning…

He folded his arms and leaned back against the recently cleaned countertop. “You’re trying exposure therapy, spending so much time with me. It’s a good way to get past the conditioning.”

Nope. Still clueless.

She couldn’t help it- she chuckled. “You’re so obtuse sometimes. It’s not exposure therapy, Dennis. Did you even consider that I just like spending time with you? Getting closer to you?”

“Maybe before, I would have hoped. But you've made it clear that I’m part of the Trinity's plan to confuse you.”

Her heart shattered at his blatant disbelief that she was trying to approach him for the right reasons. It was like they were back to square one.

“I’m not afraid of you, Dennis. I’m wearing your coat because I want to. And if you want it back, you’re going to have to take it from me.”

His eyes flashed as she provoked him. In only a few strides he was standing in front of Casey, towering over her, his harsh brow softening as she looked up at him with only kindness in her eyes.

“Let me in, Dennis,” she whispered. “Please trust my instincts.”

He stepped forward to brush off an imaginary piece of lint from his jacket, and ended up twirling a strand of her hair around his fingers. She could barely feel the whisper of his careful movements, but she could see the wonder in his eyes.

Before he could say any of the many objections flowing through his head, always the barrier between Dennis and getting what he wanted, he pulled her close.

She tilted her head up and met his lips with a tender kiss.

He wanted to pull away from the bolt of electricity that shot between them as they finally touched, but then he could taste her lips, and he closed his eyes to savour the sweetness. He felt her hands reach to the back of his neck as she pressed him in closer, and then he was lost in his surrender.

Casey could hardly believe that her stupid plan had actually worked. She’d thought he’d run from her, run from the temptation she was posing, but he’d surprised her with his willingness to take a leap of faith.

She'd been dreaming of this moment, so it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to stand almost on her toes and press against his body heat. She felt the moment that he accepted her offer, and she deepened the kiss without a second thought. She groaned as he responded in kind, her lips parting for only a moment before his tongue flicked into her mouth.

She dared to open her eyes for a moment as his glasses bumped against her cheek, and she was in awe of the absolute concentration he had on his task. She wasn't aware of this for very long- all rational thought flew away as he wrapped his arm around her waist to press her body flush against his, and she felt the fire of her arousal surging within her.

She drew back reluctantly, trying to catch her breath as she grasped at his shirt for some kind of stability. He started peppering hungry kisses down her neck, and she felt the scratch of his stubble leaving a trail of warmth.

It was suddenly too warm, and now that she had Dennis against her, she didn’t really need to keep his coat on... she shrugged out of it, and would have let it drop on the floor in the heat of the moment, if he hadn't paused to grasp the collar and help her remove it.

She smirked into his cheek and started walking backwards. He followed her steps, like they were dancing an uncoordinated tango, and he reached behind her to hang the coat in its proper place on the peg near the back door.

“Minx,” Dennis growled, as he pressed his hand against her sternum to gently push her up against the wall. She curled her hand up in his shirt, leaving wrinkles when she gripped and pulled him closer.

“Sorry,” she said, very obviously not sorry.

He looked like he was about to complain so she shut him up with another kiss, a deep and lingering exploration of his mouth, and this time she felt his moan vibrate through their connection as he replied.

“ _Casey_...”

She had never heard her name said with so much astonishment, and so much longing.

Any thought that she had of her previous experiences of physical intimacy was insubstantial as the mist as she let her hands wander, moving to where his shirt was tucked into his slacks and tugging it impatiently. She soon had one hand flat against his heated skin, and she felt his abdomen flutter at the contact. She was reminded of a skittish horse, twitching under the touch of a new rider.

He started to withdraw, and she made a little noise of disappointment at the loss.

“We need to stop,” he almost panted. He was flushed, and she worried for a moment that she'd gone beyond his comfort zone.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly.

He placed his hands flat against the wall next to her shoulders as he looked down at her, lips red and plump from their moment of madness. They just begged to be reclaimed…

He desired her so completely that it had almost hurt to pull away.

“I know that you are still experiencing mood swings, and confusion. I don't want... if I was to be here during a shift, you could feel afraid. You could lash out. I don't want you to worry.”

Casey understood his reluctance, but she was annoyed that he'd made that call by himself. “I’m getting better. I haven't struck out in days. And the drugs are almost gone. I can't promise they won't happen again, but I don't want to stop living my life just in case something goes wrong. You understand that, right?”

Dennis nodded.

“So what is it? Was it... too much for you?”

He looked away, and Casey realised that he was too ashamed to admit it.

“Are you afraid of losing control, Dennis?”

He abruptly retreated into the kitchen, leaving a few metres between them. This wasn’t going to Casey’s plan.

He closed his eyes briefly. “I’m not afraid of the possibility. I’m just waiting for it to happen.”

“Why on earth would I stop you?”

He struck his fist on the kitchen counter, and the drawers rattled from the impact. Casey didn’t flinch.

“Because I _should_ be stopped. Don’t you know why it’s all wrong?”

“It’s _not_ wrong, Dennis.”

“You’re the only one with the right to judge me, and yet you refuse. Why?”

“Because I know you,” she affirmed.

He laughed, but it was humourless and bitter. “You think you know me. What have the others told you, huh? About why I was forced from the Light?”

Casey kept her tone even. “They said that you were unwelcome. That you have certain desires that scared them.”

“And you saw it for yourself. You saw my lust, you saw the way I humiliated Marcia. Why would you even _want_ to fucking touch me?”

“We’ve been over this, Dennis. Your worst moments do not define you.”

“Yeah, well, maybe they should,” he muttered.

Casey started to get impatient with Dennis’ self-flagellation, knowing all too well that he would rather wallow in his faults than consider what he had right in front of him.

“So if your adulation of the Beast and your other… desires define you, maybe I’ll rethink my own life. If my worst moments define me, I’ll only be a victim of my Uncle, right? I’ll only be the meek little girl who stayed silent and let him do fucked up things to me?”

He looked horrified. “That’s not what I meant, it’s not the same… you didn’t do anything wrong.”

She snorted. “As if that makes a difference. In everyone’s eyes, I was equally culpable in the abuse. You have _no_ idea what it was like to put him on trial for what he did to me. They raked me over the coals with him.”

She stepped forward. “You are not responsible for the actions of the Beast.”

He refused to look at her.

“Say it, Dennis. _You are not responsible for the actions of the Beast_.”

He shook his head. “I followed the girls. Your friends, the cheerleaders. I used them for his sacred food. I used the pursuit of the Beast’s coming for my own selfish purposes.”

“You were guided by Patricia’s devotion, but you soon turned from the Horde, didn’t you? Say it, Dennis! _You are not responsible for the actions of the Beast!_ ”

“I wish we’d never called him. Kevin would rather die than have the Beast shield him. I betrayed Kevin…”

Dennis broke under the sudden weight of his shame, and fell to his knees.

Casey was by his side in seconds as he crumpled, almost hyperventilating from his internal struggle.

“I don’t deserve any of this,” he panted. “I don’t deserve you.”

She didn’t reply, but she cupped his jaw with one hand to make him look up at her. They must have looked into each other’s eyes for several minutes before he calmed, and Dennis’ façade was on the verge of returning.

Finally he whispered, “I am not responsible for the actions of the Beast. But if I could take it all back, I would.”

She embraced him, tears falling from her eyes, as Dennis achieved the catharsis he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy, my little smut-muffins. :)


	20. Invocation, Invitation, Affirmation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's earn that Mature rating, shall we?
> 
> This one goes out to a dirty bastard, who is "a ween" and "not ready". You know who you are.

Casey was a bit worried when she didn’t see Dennis for more than a moment over the next few days. She asked Barry about it, and he reassured her that Dennis was just taking some time to reflect. She would have to be patient with him.

Patience. She was growing all too familiar with the concept.

Now that they were both safe and well (as much as could be expected) it was becoming difficult to fill in the days. At Casey’s urging they began taking short walks in the woods behind the house, just to get outside for a while. It was soon a routine, and their walks became longer as they grew more familiar with the network of trails.

Casey’s thoughts often turned to David and Joseph, and after consulting with Orwell, they ordered a postcard and stamps to have it sent. It wasn’t the most secure method of communication, but hopefully a single line of text wouldn’t betray them, even if the Balance Trinity was watching the Dunn’s mail.

Eventually they had to come to terms with the reality of their situation: they couldn’t stay here forever.

Casey called a strategic meeting with Orwell, armed only with a pen and paper to write down their ideas. They gathered at the kitchen table just after breakfast, and she was alert from the rare shot of coffee she’d had that morning.

“I’ve also been considering our next move,” Orwell admitted. “But I’d be curious to hear your thoughts. There’s a lot stacked against us, as fugitives from the law and the Balance Trinity.”

Casey nodded. “I’m not sure what’s more dangerous. If people recognize you, it’s because you’re a wanted man. If they recognize me, it’s because I’m meant to be dead. At least with your hair growing out a bit, you might not be as recognizable.”

Orwell gingerly touched his hair, now almost an inch in length, just enough to start going different directions when it was caught by the wind. Now Casey could see that it was a very soft brown, but on the edge of being silver. She resisted the urge to touch it, remembering that Orwell wasn’t going to respond in the same way as Dennis.

She missed him, she realized. It was a strange feeling to have, when his physical form was sitting across from her. But there was no mistaking that this was Orwell; he slouched like someone used to writing all day, and he rubbed his chin without realizing when he was deep in thought. Nothing like Dennis.

She was forced back into the conversation by Orwell’s reply. “That is a big factor. Additionally, there’s only so much we can get delivered before someone gets suspicious. In a town this small, gossip travels faster than light. They must know about Helen Yung’s legacy, and that the house is supposed to be empty. If we order from the wrong place, it could be a red flag.”

“So we have to move. How much cash do we have left?”

“Three hundred, give or take.”

“Give or take?”

“Lord knows what Barry has been ordering since I last checked. But he’s been keeping track of all that.”

Casey wrote down the first bullet point, _ask Barry for cash total._

He continued. “We can take a look later. If we sleep in the car, that means no hotel bills or chances of being seen, but it’s not a long term solution. So we need to prioritize getting more money.”

She added, _get more money._

“Did Joseph say how else he’d help us, if we called?” Casey asked.

Orwell shook his head. “We were so focused on getting you out, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t apologize for that,” Casey said wryly.

“Besides, there was quite a bit of cash laid down to get the mortuary van organized, and the getaway car… I don’t think they can help out much more on that front.”

Casey felt a stab of anxiety. She had never been homeless, or so poor that she didn’t know where the next meal was coming from. She’d considered running away from John so many times, but on each occasion was halted by these exact issues. He may have been a bastard, but he kept a roof over her head, and heating in the winter months. It was more than some people had.

“I wonder what happened to my inheritance?” she asked slowly. “Some of my dad’s money was put in trust until I was eighteen, and the court awarded me some of John’s assets as a part of the compensation. But now that I’m legally dead…”

She shuddered to think that it would have all gone back to him.

“Did you have a Will?”

She shook her head. “I was planning one, after the trial. But I never got the time.”

“It would likely go back to John, I’m afraid. He’s still your next of kin. Otherwise, the state would seize it.”

“It wasn’t much, but it would have really helped,” she groaned. “Back to square one.”

“I think we need to prioritize a meeting with David and Joseph,” Orwell countered. “We don’t have all of our knowledge and resources pooled with just the two of us. It would be rash to make any decisions without them.”

Casey dutifully wrote down and underlined _Meet the Dunns_.

“You have lovely cursive,” Orwell noted with a smile.

“At one point I wanted to study graphic design, if I ever got to college,” she said softly. “I studied a lot of fonts.”

“And now?”

“I want to work with kids. But I suppose that won’t happen, after all of this.”

“Never give up hope. I’m sure you have a bright future ahead of you.”

She smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. “Thanks, Orwell.”

They started discussing how to best get in touch with the Dunn family, but dismissed most of the ideas fairly quickly. It seemed a bit silly to be borrowing ideas from spy movies and cop shows, discussing dead drops and payphone calls, but this was just the reality they would have to get used to. After some time, they had a fairly simple plan in place, even though they both knew that there was always going to be an element of risk.

“There’s no point wasting time, is there?” Casey murmured. “We’ll do it tomorrow.”

Orwell nodded solemnly. “I’ll start loading the car.”

Casey felt relief that they were finally going to move ahead, but also apprehensive for their uncertain future. She knew all too well that best laid plans could fall apart. She couldn’t afford to be complacent.

If it all went wrong tomorrow, they could be captives of the Balance Trinity, or worse.

*

*

*

Casey rarely cooked, but that night she found herself wanting the distraction. She scanned the sparse ingredients and settled on some bacon-wrapped chicken with roast vegetables.

Barry tasted and complimented her cooking, but noticing her pensive mood, eventually made way for the man who was obviously on her mind.

Dennis joined her at the sink once they’d finished eating, and she noted his quiet composure as they stood side by side, almost an apology for his longer absences.

Most of the alters enjoyed this part of the routine; after brushing their teeth they would collapse in the lounge room to talk or read together before Casey went to bed. If Hedwig was about, they would also play games or draw.

Dennis, though… nothing about him was routine. He continued to surprise her. Rather than take his usual single seater, he joined her on the couch, albeit on the opposite end.

She watched him settle, flexing his hands in tandem and shifting his legs until his feet were precisely lined up with the carpet pattern. All these little things to make him feel in control… it may seem strange, but if that’s all you ever have control over, they would be easy habits to develop.

She realized that she was staring, but he didn’t seem put off, and waited patiently for her to speak.

“I’m assuming that Orwell has filled you in on the plan?” Casey said eventually.

“Yes. Just in case the Light moves, everyone has been made aware,” he said tightly. “I still think it’s too risky. After Baltimore, I thought we would have learned not to let you go alone.”

She sighed. “I don’t like it that much either. But it’s our best chance. And besides, you’ll be more at risk.”

He nodded, seemingly resigned.

Casey shivered.

“Are you cold?” Dennis asked immediately.

“I think the lounge room is the coldest one in the house,” Casey remarked. “I don’t know how you get any rest in here.”

“We’ve been doing okay,” Dennis said guardedly.

“You know, you don’t have to sleep on the couch. Tonight. That is…”

He held his breath, and his eyes met hers.

“…if you want.”

She felt like the least romantic person in the world, blushing furiously as she stumbled over her offer, wanting to disappear right into the floral couch cushion and never emerge.

But Dennis didn’t seem to notice her embarrassment. He didn’t seem to care that she was wearing the least erotic set of flannel pyjamas and thick fluffy socks she could have possibly chosen.

He held out his hand, and in a trance, he led her to the bedroom, turning off the lights as they passed through the house. His grasp was so gentle, but she found herself unable to resist even the slightest pull in any direction as she followed.

They lay under the covers, face to face in the near-darkness, waiting to take the plunge. He’d taken off his glasses, and seemed strangely vulnerable without them. It was still undoubtedly Dennis, Casey could tell, but he wasn’t there to be Kevin’s bodyguard. He was there for himself.

It was Casey who reached out and traced the lines of his face, faint but so familiar in the moonlight, inviting him to open himself to the moment.

His breathing turned ragged, and his mouth claimed hers without hesitation. He tasted faintly of their shared toothpaste, but also of something so intoxicating that she felt drunk from his every unhurried kiss.

She shifted closer and tangled their legs together, as though trying to stop him from running away like he had the last time she’d propositioned him. He caressed her hair, her shoulders, tracing down her spine to the curve of her hips. Every inch of her thrilled to be under his careful touch.

His hand travelled back up, but took her shirt with it. His hands were roughened from his work, but the friction was so delicious that she arched her back into his gentle strokes.

“You’re so responsive for me,” he whispered. “Casey…”

She could only sigh contentedly in response and pull her shirt over her head, momentarily shy of the scars dotting her pale skin, but the hunger that flashed in Dennis’ eyes pushed away any thought of being undesirable.

He cupped her breasts like they were incredibly fragile, but she pushed herself into his hands, and he was soon applying delicious pressure that had her squirming.

“Dennis, god…” she whimpered, and she knew that her voice was trembling with the force of her desire, but she couldn’t care less. She reclaimed his lips, plying him with deep and desperate kisses, silently begging for more.

She pressed his chest up against her own, and deciding that turnabout was fair play, grasped inelegantly at his long-sleeved shirt. He chuckled into her mouth at her impatience, and eventually obliged by pulling his shirt off.

She saw the peppered scars from the shotgun blast on his chest, the wounds that she inflicted what seemed like millennia ago. She nuzzled against his skin, breathing in his scent, and lay soft apologies all over his scars.

He groaned. “I forgive, I…”

“Shh, shh, we don’t need to be sorry for anything,” she whispered, looking up at him. “After everything that happened, now we’re here. It’s just us.”

Their soft embrace gave way to a kind of desperation, and Casey found herself undulating against Dennis, their hips occasionally brushing with surges of want. She keened as Dennis nipped at her earlobe, tracing down her neck, leaving little sparks of pleasure behind.

She felt his hands grasping at her ass, pushing her ever closer to his heat, and she shuddered as she could feel his arousal matching her own.

She reached down to guide one of his hands to the waistband of her pants, and he caught on quickly, pushing the fabric down so she could kick them off somewhere under the covers.

He did the same without prompting, and his knees knocked against her thighs as he struggled to get his pants off quickly. She grinned impishly, and his unimpressed glare was obviously intended to keep her from commenting. However, it seemed that he really wanted to ensure she said nothing, and the easiest way to do that was obviously by kissing her again. Her head started to spin, oxygen not getting where it needed to go, but she floated on top of the moment without a care.

She touched a delicate trail down his side, feeling his ribs, his abdomen, and had barely reached his hips before he stilled.

“Can I?” she asked, breathless. He nodded, his brows drawing together in concentration.

She hadn’t had thorough experience of men, especially given her home life, and she was determined to know Dennis and his body completely. She was careful in her exploration, stroking his thighs and ass, before finally finding his hard length.

He shuddered and his eyes squeezed shut as she started at the base, feeling a small patch of hair, before stroking up the side of his cock, revelling in the silky softness of his skin.

“C-Casey,” he groaned as his hips canted forward.

There was a small bead of liquid at his tip, and she smeared it over the head. Curiosity got the better of her, and she raised her fingers to her face to capture his scent.

He watched avidly as she breathed him in, and then choked as she let her tongue flicker out to have a taste, and a small smile escaped her wicked lips.

His tenuous control shattered, and he curled an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. She gasped as his cock pressed against her thigh, so close to her own aching core.

His other arm snaked between their warm bodies, and she soon felt the touch of his palm flat against her belly.

She craned her neck to get some air, flushed by her arousal and the thrill of finally being here with Dennis, exploring him, allowing herself to be explored.

His hand didn’t stop moving, always coming closer to her heat, and she finally let her legs part slightly, a silent invitation.

He didn’t waste time. With a shaky exhalation, he let his fingers run along her seam, and dip ever so slightly into her pussy.

She arched her back and almost swore at the sensation that rocked through her, surprised at just how sensitive she was to his every touch when they had barely begun.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Again,” she said, and laughed at the raw desperation in her voice.

His answering chuckle rumbled like thunder, and he obliged.

She hadn’t realized just how wet she’d become until he started spreading her labia, and she felt his fingers running around the edges of her clit.

She came to a decision, although how much brain power was actually involved in it was up for later debate. _Foreplay over. She needed to feel him._

With a movement that was more enthusiasm than grace, she straddled his leg and braced herself above him. He looked shocked, but soon adjusted to her new position.

She leaned forward to steal a kiss, biting at his lips and letting her nipples brush against his chest. He grasped her breasts, his thumbs brushing against her rosy peaks until they were so sensitive it almost hurt. She let her head fall into the juncture of his shoulder as she squirmed against him. Her hair cascaded into his face, and she tried to brush it to one side, but he got there first, running his fingers through it over and over again until it fell over one shoulder like a dark curtain. He always had been fascinated by her hair. Soon, she would be able to run her fingers through his hair in return.

Dennis guided her forehead to his, like he was trying to create a psychic link between them, and she honestly could have believed it was possible. Anything was possible.

“Please,” she whispered once, and it was enough. He didn’t question her motivations, didn’t ask her if she was sure… he just trusted her, like she trusted him.

He gently grasped her ass, and pulled her fully on top of him; she felt his cock briefly touch against her labia, and she barely avoided a squeak that would have been embarrassing to let out.

Dennis lined himself up, and after they shared a deep breath, he eased into her warmth.

She shuddered and tried to relax as she adjusted to the intrusion, his length and thickness so foreign, but it didn’t take long before it felt like the most natural thing in the world. His hands moved up her hips, steadying her, leaving touches as light as his fingerprints.

He beckoned to her for a kiss, and it was strangely sweet, until he smirked into her mouth and started withdrawing.

She released a strangled moan as his slow movements seemed to touch every part of her pussy, the delicious friction of his movements achingly slow against her entrance.

His breath came in short bursts as he started moving faster, his hips stuttering against hers, and all she could do was cry out wordlessly as they collided again and again, their joint pleasure radiating through them. She let her eyes close as she relished every sensation, every place their bodies were touching, the hard planes of his torso and the coiled muscles of his thighs as he pumped into her.

She tightened her walls involuntarily as a wave of pleasure gripped her, and her hands came up to hold his shoulders, trying to find an anchor, trying to stave off her own orgasm, and barely succeeded. He groaned, and with a quick movement sat up, letting her kneel either side of him for a completely different sensation.

“Casey,” he breathed into neck, desperation creeping into his voice. He grasped a fistful of her hair to pull her head back further, and bit a path across her throat, where he could feel her erratic pulse beating strongly.

She had her palms braced against his chest, but now she flexed her fingers, scratching the slightest abrasions down his skin, marking the space above his heart with her scratches. _Mine._

The wave of possessiveness that passed through her was surprising, but she allowed it to consume her, to direct her to start moving again; she started to rock her hips, and Dennis arched backwards as he was overwhelmed by her assertive movements. She felt so powerful, moving above him, her sweat cooling against her back in the freezing night air.

The bed was protesting loudly at their staccato pace, but Casey could only hear their shared cries of pleasure, and the lewd slap of their bodies colliding.

“Fuck, fuck, Dennis…” she started crying out, almost sobbing at the friction of his cock. “It’s so much, it’s so good, it’s…”

“Casey, come for me,” he growled, reaching down to rub at her clit, and when she felt the wave starting to crash over her, she allowed herself to be taken.

“Dennis, I’m…” she managed to groan, but then she was there, losing control of their lovemaking as she ground twice, three times, and her orgasm careened into her, leaving her nerves on fire from her toes to her scalp, which was stinging slightly from Dennis’ desperate grasp.

Dennis held her waist so tightly that she was sure he would leave bruises, as she threw her head back and screamed into the night, gasping as she felt her juices spill around him. When she was eventually able to look into his eyes, she could see nothing but pride and lust reflected back at her. She started trembling in the aftermath, and he rolled them onto her back, his still-hard member sliding out of her with a sound that Casey thought obscene.

Still looking into her eyes, bright with her pleasure, he reached down to take himself in hand, and after only a few pumps, he spilled over her abdomen. She loved how he looked when he lost control, his eyes squeezed shut like he was in pain, until he shuddered and a wordless sigh was drawn from deep within him.

They lay still, Dennis partly draped over Casey, breathing deeply and trying to regain some control of their racing thoughts. She rubbed her legs together, relishing the sensation of warmth and slickness that remained.

“ _Dennis_ ,” she whispered, like an affirmation.

“Yes?”

“Nothing. Just… you.”

He huffed into her shoulder, laying a single tender kiss against her flushed skin. “Well, then. _Casey_.”

She smiled, and didn’t stop for a long time, the afterglow getting the best of her. Dennis had to get up and fetch a cloth to clean up his semen with gentle swipes on her skin (he looked a little apologetic, but said nothing: after all, there was nothing to apologize for), and then of course he straightened out the covers and made sure she was comfortable, and retrieved their pyjamas to neatly fold and place on the end of the bed.

They both opted to sleep without them, Dennis curving around Casey and holding her until she fell asleep.


	21. Futurists

_A few days before_

 

Arriving home from church, Mrs Price kicked off her heels with an audible sigh of relief. She had worn low heels almost every day in her long banking career, but nothing ever beat the sensation of taking them off at the end of the day and shuffling about in just her sheer stockings. These days she preferred sensible shoes, but for Sunday, she had to put a bit more effort in. How the ladies liked to talk, if she turned up in anything less. As if forgetting to put on her lipstick was a larger sin than the ones her own son had committed.

She heard her computer chime. Rather than collapse in her easy chair, she settled herself in front of the screen and clicked on the new email icon.

_Sender: future_proof@gmail.com_

_Subject: What Next?_

_Content: Mrs Price, we are sorry for your loss. The three you have encountered are not the only ones. A movement is taking flight. Are you ready?_

_-The Futurists_

She frowned at the cryptic message. Was it just spam? Or was it someone trying to reach out to her?

She Googled 'the futurists' and came across a lot of information about science fiction and new technologies, nothing that seemed to be relevant. When she typed 'futurists' and 'Mr Glass', she came across one result that had her immediate attention.

The link said _ravenhillexposed.fr._ When she clicked on it, her entire screen went black. She frantically clicked around, trying to exit or go back, hoping that she hadn’t just loaded her computer with some kind of virus. She’d have to get her neighbor over again, which had been very embarrassing the last time.

An image finally loaded, or rather, a video. She recognized the brick building immediately: Raven Hill Memorial.

It was the security camera footage of the escape. Everything from when they first emerged from the basement exit, to when Mrs Price came out the front door flanked by Casey and Joseph, to when she was sitting on the ground with Elijah's head in her lap.

It finished with a line of text, and she had to wipe away her tears to read it.

THE GIFTED ARE AMONG US. THE FUTURE IS HERE. ARE YOU READY?

A second email came through.

_Sender:_ _future_proof@gmail.com_

_Subject: You Found Us_

_Content: We only seek the truth. The one that the Balance Trinity trying to hide. Together we will make the invisible visible. We will prove to the world that they exist. We will continue the work of Mr Glass and his people._

_-The Futurists_

She re-read the message over and over, before retrieving her phone and dialing the Dunn's number.

They believe Elijah, she was thinking. They believe us.

“Esther, is everything okay?” Joseph said immediately.

“Oh, just fine honey. I think it’s a good day to go for a walk around the park, don’t you?”

They met in front of Mrs Price’s building, and Joseph escorted her to the nearby scrubby park with a steady arm, like a true gentleman.

Mrs Price told him all about the emails and the video, once they were away from anyone who could overhear their conversation. Joseph listened intently.

“The Futurists?” Joseph said, slightly shrilly.

“Keep it down,” Esther tutted. “Yes, the Futurists. They contacted me about Elijah, saying that they believed him to be extraordinary. I didn’t think to pay them any mind at first, although I do admit they piqued my interest. But then they started talking about the Balance Trinity, just like you did.”

“I’d like to have my guy look at the email, if that’s okay,” Joseph mused. “Maybe there’s something hidden in there that can help see whether it’s legitimate.”

“You’re more than welcome to it, Joseph.”

They strolled for a little while in a shared silence, contemplative and heavy.

“There’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about. Casey Cooke.”

“...ah.”

“ _Ah_ , indeed. I know that you've tried to play your cards close to your chest, my boy, but I know full well that she's alive.”

Joseph winced. “I'm that bad a liar, huh?”

“Yes, but your father also told me,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “He took me out for coffee last week, as he thought I should be informed about our mutual enemies. I’m afraid I had to tell him that you’d already let _that_ cat out of the bag.”

“We really need to communicate more,” Joseph groaned. “At least we could have our stories straight.”

She chuckled. “Your father said the same. But I understand why you lied to me, dear. It was to protect them.”

“Them? So dad really told you everything about Casey?” Joseph asked.

“Not any of the details of your time in Baltimore, but from what I understand, you did quite the impressive job of espionage,” she teased.

Joseph caved, and told her everything. The endless hours in a Baltimore hotel room with the Horde, the surveillance of the facilities, the mortuary van, and the final time he saw Casey and Dennis.

When he was finished, she looked troubled. “This Pritika women who let you go... have you heard anything else about her?”

“No. I don't know if she was caught or anything. She hasn’t turned up dead, as far as I can tell.”

“Well, I hope she's alright. She took a great risk in helping you, even though it was the right thing to do.”

Joseph felt the familiar stab of guilt as he thought about his assisted escape. He also hoped that she wasn't punished, but there was no way of knowing without further exposing his part in the great escape.

“Well. Now that we're all on the same page, how are we going to be helping Casey and Kevin stay one step ahead of the Trinity? And do we need to start planning our own escape route?"

“Are you sure you weren't a spy as well as a banker, Esther?” Joseph teased.

“Just a woman of the world, my dear. A black woman, at that. I’ve learned to keep my wits about me.”

*

*

*

_Present day_

 

Casey drifted into awareness one sense at a time. Her back was draped in warmth, as Dennis was still pressed against her. The scent of sex drifted in the air, familiar and intoxicating The light of the morning sun leaking through her eyelids made her reluctantly blink and open her eyes.

She shifted under the covers, relishing the slide of her skin against his, and he responded with a strangled groan.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice rough from dehydration. Or maybe she'd screamed too loudly last night... she couldn't quite remember, or bring herself to care too much. 

After all, Dennis had seemed to like her vocal responses.

Casey felt Dennis arch forward and exhale, his hot breath on her neck making her skin prickle with anticipation.

“Did you sleep well?” he murmured, his hand coming up to stroke her side.

She nodded, and stretched like a cat under his gentle touch.

“I wonder what time it is,” she sighed. Almost on cue, her stomach grumbled.

He stroked his hand down to soothe her belly, and she was reminded that there was more than one kind of hunger.

“Breakfast in bed?” she suggested idly. “Maybe some toast?”

His hand stilled.

She turned to look at him, drinking in his hard features and the softness in his eyes in the morning light. “I was joking, idiot. You'd have a heart attack.”

His brow smoothed out. “You're not funny,” he observed.

“Hedwig thinks I'm hilarious!”

Dennis snorted. “He's incredibly easy to please.”

“How dare you, take that back!” She shoved him away with mock-offence.

A low growl was the only warning she got before he tackled her and pinned her arms above her head, and she couldn't help but laugh at the stern expression on his face.

“Alright, alright, I give in. I won't tease you anymore,” she said breathlessly.

“I never said that,” he murmured, right beside her ear, and she felt herself arch involuntarily into his grip.

Just as his lips hovered above hers, promising retribution, he retreated. He let go of her wrists and rolled back to his side of the bed with a sigh.

“Who's teasing now,” she grumbled, but understood that they didn't really have time to spare. As tempted as she was for a repeat performance, last night had been spurred by a shared desperation, the recognition that it may be their last time together if everything went wrong today. It had been the catalyst, but Casey knew it wasn't the end.

She did take the time to watch him leave, as naked as the day he was born. She was only human, after all.

After taking showers and sharing a cold breakfast, they said farewell to the house that had been their refuge for the past weeks. Casey said a silent thanks to Helen Yung, and hoped that she'd had an easier time of living with her DID than Kevin seemed to.

Barry took the driver’s seat, as the most enthusiastic (if not the most cautious) of the Horde members who could drive. It felt strange to be going through the local town in the daytime, catching glimpses of ordinary life passing by. Kids on swings, queues of people in stores, dogs yapping with excitement as they were pulled away from each other.

“So, you and Dennis have been close,” Barry said finally.

Casey blushed and pointedly stared out the window. “Are you fishing for details, or do you already know?”

“I’ve got a pretty good impression of what’s gone down, so to speak,” he said, unable to stop himself.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, we spent the night together. Yes, it was amazing. No, I won’t tell you anything else.”

“Aw, baby! I’m so proud of you. Dennis is a hard man to please.”

“Stop it with the innuendo, for the love of…”

“I should put it to bed, do you think?”

“Barry!”

“Alright, alright. I’ve finished— just like Dennis did.”

She shook her head but was still chuckling at his terrible jokes. He loved that he could make her laugh like that.

“But seriously, in terms of your personal relationship… did you take my advice before jumping his bones?”

She nodded. “I was honest with him, and he eventually did the same. It was difficult, he was carrying a lot of guilt. Do you… still blame him, for everything that’s happened?”

Barry hummed. “In a way, I do. No amount of contrition can reverse the things he’s done. But I think I understand why he did it much better, now. He’s started sharing with us a bit more. As does Patricia.”

“That’s good. Kevin needs all of you, after all,” Casey said.

Barry nodded, and returned his attention to the road. They were also beginning to realize that Kevin had a purpose for each of them.

“Here’s your stop,” Barry said finally, pulling over and trying to avoid the slush collected on the edges of the road. “You be careful, okay?”

“Of course I will. You too.”

She waved at Barry as he drove away, trying not to dwell on the possibilities.

It was strange, being alone again. She stamped her feet against the chill and wondered, not for the first time, whether it would just be easier to flag down the nearest car and tell them everything. To be done with the entire saga.

But she knew that she’d made this choice, and she was sticking with it. Besides, what else was there to go home to?

She waited for the appointed time, and approached the payphone with a fistful of change.

She dialed the number for the automated local directory, and asked for Dunn Security Philadelphia.

Unsure of who would pick up, she was still surprised to hear David Dunn’s gruff greeting, and took a moment to start speaking.

“David. You need to call another phone number in five minutes. Are you listening?”

He replied in such a flat and disinterested tone that Casey wasn’t even sure he knew it was her. “Yes, go ahead.”

She told him, and hung up without even a goodbye. Her hand trembled with nerves as she pushed the flimsy door open and returned to the cold outside the phone booth.

She walked the block to the bus stop and got on the first one to go past, her muffler pulled up high and beanie down low, so only her eyes were visible. The bus was an ancient old thing, and she doubted it even had security cameras. It was also full of kids going to school, so hopefully she would be lost in the chaos of the crowd.

It was overstimulating to be sitting on a public bus, listening to the laughter and the occasional burst of music from the kid’s phones. She hadn’t liked being confined when she was one of them, and it seemed like that hadn’t changed now that she was an adult.

After only a few stops she got off with a nod to the driver, and slipped into the parking lot to wait for Barry to return.

*

*

*

Meanwhile, Barry was speeding down the road to the next town, trying to keep his mind off the image he’d had of Casey disappearing in the rear view mirror.

This wasn’t like when they’d let her go talk to Dr Whittington. This time, they had a plan. This time, they knew who they were up against, and they’d taken all possible precautions.

It didn’t help his anxiety.

It also didn’t help that Dennis was basically clawing at the walls with his own worries for Casey, radiating through to Barry until he very pointedly turned up the radio to blast some distracting pop music.

He almost skidded to a stop across the road from the old cinema, where there was a payphone almost identical to the one that Casey had used.

Keeping his head down, he checked the time and made sure that no one was using it before crossing the road.

At the appointed time, the phone rang, and Barry answered.

“Hello?” Joseph said cautiously.

“Dunn the younger, I presume. It’s the man from the diner,” Barry said pleasantly, hoping that Joseph would get his drift.

“Yes, yes. Christ, it’s good to hear from you. Is everything okay?”

“As well as can be expected. I trust you got our card?”

“The post card? It was very sweet of you.”

“You flatter me. It wasn’t entirely my idea, of course.”

“Be sure to pass on my thanks to your friend.”

“I will, she’s anxious to see you again. In fact, I was hoping we could meet.”

“Is it safe?”

“We won’t know until we try.”

“Okay. Dad won’t be able to come, the damn anklet… but we can meet. And Mrs Price.”

Barry was taken aback by his casual mention of Mr Glass’ mother being involved, but recovered quickly. “If you think it wise. Alright, there’s a roadhouse outside of Liberty on Route 15. Can you be there in three hours?”

“I’ll check my schedule,” Joseph said dryly. “Yes, of course we’ll be there.”

As soon as Barry hung up, he launched into action. He had to pick up Casey before anyone from the Balance Trinity traced the initial call, or his own.

*

*

*

Sadie’s new assistant barged into her office. The nephew of some Trinity brass, he was proving himself much less capable than Pritika, and could barely take notes to save his life. Still, the price of doing business.

“For goodness sake, have a care,” she snapped as the frosted glass door rattled from the force of his entrance.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Prescott, but we have news. From the tap on the Dunn’s phone. They received a call from an unknown number, run through the directory—we’re trying to trace it now—and immediately made another call to a payphone in Little Mountain. We have agents on their way.”

“They won’t stay put for long,” Sadie mused. “Let me know as soon as either of the Dunn’s are moving. Heighten regional security protocols, check every camera in the County if you have to. I want to know where they go next.”

He fled Sadie's office, and she took a moment to center herself before making a call. This time, she would have something to show for her hard work.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If TV has taught me anything, for every secret evil organization there is an equal and opposite good organization. The trick is knowing that they're both a mix of good and evil. :)


	22. Liberty City Limits

Mrs Price woke up with the sun, and was surprised to see another email had come in only minutes before.

_Sender: future_proof@gmail.com_

_Subject: Check the Mail_

_As a gesture of our good faith. Pass on our regards to your compatriots._

_-The Futurists_

Sure enough, someone had left a parcel by her door. She looked around to see if they’d stuck around, but the street was deserted at this early hour. She retreated inside and firmly locked the deadbolt. She found it curious, but not surprising, that receiving an actual package was more frightening to her than an anonymous email. Her hands shook as she peeled open the manila envelope.

Two packets of documents slid out, and once she saw what was inside, she lost her breath.

Two passports. Two driver’s licenses. Two social security cards. All with matching details.

_Dennis Patrick Williams. Kara Louise Bowman._

They looked real, but she knew that they were forgeries. Kevin and Casey stared up at her from the little ID photographs.

She retrieved one last item from the envelope, and knew what it was as soon as she laid her hand on it. A wad of crisp hundreds. She was familiar with the banknotes from her long career at the bank, and had been used to seeing larger amounts on a daily basis; but here, in her humble and faded home, it looked wrong.

She peeked behind her curtain at the freezing landscape as she waited for her composure to return.

Her phone rang, and it was the Dunn’s number.

“Esther, I need to come over. Right away.”

“That’s funny. I was about to ask you to do the same,” she said faintly.

Joseph pulled up by the curb ten minutes later, and Esther immediately got in.

“Are you okay? You look a bit spooked,” Joseph observed warily.

“Just drive, honey. I got another message from the Futurists. They left me a package.”

Joseph pulled out into traffic obediently. “Go on.”

She rummaged around in her massive handbag and showed him the top documents: licenses for Kevin and Casey. “Completely new identities for Kevin and Casey. They look pretty legitimate to me. Along with at least ten grand in cash,” she whispered.

Joseph’s eyes were like saucers. “What if it’s a trap?”

“It very well could be. All we can do is pass it along. If Kevin and Casey decide to use them, they can weigh up the risks.”

Joseph tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in frustration as they got stuck at a red light. “That’s what I wanted to talk to _you_ about. Kevin’s alter Barry got in touch with me. He’s organized a meet for today, so I’m driving upstate now. I said you might be coming along, and especially if you want to discuss the Futurists with them… it can’t be a coincidence that they sent you those documents. They must know more than we gave them credit for. But it could be dangerous.”

“I’ll come with you,” she said firmly. She ignored the stab of anxiety low in her gut at the thought of meeting the man who killed Elijah with a single punch. There was enough blame to go around without holding a grudge against Kevin, and whoever inhabited his body.

“We need to get out of Philly clean, so hold on tight.”

Mrs Price rolled her eyes as Joseph revved the engine. She doubted that Joseph could be a racer any time soon, but she did enjoy his excitement at the prospect of shaking any Balance Trinity tail they might have.

*

*

*

Barry was incredibly relieved to see Casey leaning against the wall of the community center, looking so much like a disaffected local teen. When she spotted his car pulling in, she stood up straight and basically leapt into the passenger seat once he’d come to a stop.

“Going my way?” she said, a twinkle in her eye.

“Hold on, baby,” Barry laughed, peeling out of the lot at a slightly reckless speed. “All good?”

“All to plan, surprisingly. And you?”

“Not a sign of the BT. Hopefully the Liberty roadhouse will be okay as well.”

She directed the heating vents towards her, peeling off her muffler and gloves with a sigh of relief. “I spoke to David. Did he call or did Joseph?”

“Joseph. David’s still being tracked, so he’s out.”

“That must be so frustrating,” Casey said.

Barry shrugged. “At least he’s relatively safe. The Trinity know he’s being watched by the world, so they can’t move in on him like they did with us.”

“True,” she said.

“Oh, and apparently Elijah Price’s mother might be coming.”

“Really?” Casey said in surprise. “What does she know?”

“I have no idea. But if Joseph trusts her, maybe we should as well.”

Casey hummed in agreement, but still looked unsure. “She certainly didn’t follow in her son’s footsteps, in terms of ideology, but she believed in him and what he was capable of. She believed in the Beast and the Overseer as well. Maybe she’s been an ally to the Dunn’s.”

Barry followed the backroads until he got to the freeway, conscious of the fact that they had a deadline to meet with Joseph. The town of Liberty, which he found very appropriate. Hopefully it was a sign that the Balance Trinity wouldn’t be there to take them in.

All too soon, they reached the outskirts of Liberty, and pulled off to a side road that wound up into the low hills that overlooked the town. From there they had an ideal vantage point for the roadhouse, and hopefully they could spot any presence of the Trinity before heading there.

They sat on the hood of the car together, taking turns with the birdwatching binoculars they’d pinched from Helen Yung’s house. So far, there was no sign of any activity other than a few truckers having an argument in the parking lot, and the change of shift for the roadhouse staff. Casey barely knew what she was looking for, just hoping that they could anything suspicious before it became a problem.

When the appointed meeting time came, Barry shared one last smile with Casey before shifting into Dennis.

Casey tried not to blush as she looked at him, remembering how he had looked last night and this morning. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked instead.

He polished the lenses of his glasses and nodded, his expression serious and inscrutable.

*

*

*

Joseph felt quite surreal as he drove slowly into the roadhouse’s gravel parking lot, one of only a few cars in amongst the trucks and lorries. He opened the door for Mrs Price and kept his head on a swivel as they entered the diner part of the building, thankfully bypassing the dingy bar and games lounge that seemed equally popular with the truckers.

It was your standard greasy spoon, with worn old four-tops and a long counter for the lone travelers after a cup of coffee and a hot breakfast.

He looked around, but this time Barry wasn’t there to greet them. He let Mrs Price to a booth and waved away the middle-aged waitress who asked for their order, explaining that they were waiting for a few friends.

Every time a blast of cooler air was let in from the outside, he looked at the door, but Kevin and Casey were a few minutes late when they finally made it inside.

Dennis had a ridiculous tourist cap pulled low over his face, and Casey had tucked her hair into her beanie, but otherwise they didn’t have much of a disguise. Hopefully they wouldn’t be there for long enough to be recognized.

“Hey, Joseph. Mrs Price,” Casey greeted them in a low voice as they sat opposite the odd couple. Joseph looked like he fit in here, a bit scruffy and dressed in plaid, but Mrs Price stood out as a well-dressed elderly woman.

“Casey. It’s good to see you’re well,” Joseph replied honestly. She was still pale, but she’d obviously thrown off the worst of the problems from her confinement with the Balance Trinity.

“I have you to thank for that,” she said sincerely.

“Ah, no thanks needed. When Patricia calls, you tend to do whatever she tells you.”

Casey looked at Dennis, startled, but he was studying the menu and trying to ignore her surprise.

“Patricia called you for help? Not anyone else?” Casey said slowly.

Joseph nodded. “Is that… okay?”

“Yes, of course, it’s just… unusual,” Casey trailed off. She’d known that the alters had been thrown into quite a state when she’d been kidnapped, but to think that it was Patricia who took the initiative to ask the Dunn’s for help… what had possessed her? Casey tucked this in the back of her mind for their next conversation, if Patricia was to have the Light anytime soon.

The waitress came back over and everyone ordered a hot drink.

“So, Mrs Price. I have to admit it was a surprise to see you here,” Casey said, trying to regain her sense of purpose. “A nice surprise, I mean.”

“Believe me, I didn’t think I’d end up here,” she chuckled. “But that’s life. Joseph and I have been talking a lot about everything after Raven Hill, and he’s been a great comfort to me.”

Joseph blushed.

“And of course I don’t lay blame on anybody here for that day. It was all the Balance Trinity, I see that now.”

She looked directly at Dennis, as if to say, _I forgive you_.

Dennis matched her sympathetic look with his own hard expression, his default shields still well and truly in place.

Mrs Price was undeterred. “Before I forget, I have something for you.”

Dennis looked intrigued, which was a welcome change from the glare he had settled upon.

“A group called The Futurists got in touch with me. They say that they’re defenders of the different, of the gifted. At first they just talked about my Elijah, but soon they talked about the Horde.”

Dennis flinched slightly, and Casey reached out under the table to lay a comforting hand on his leg.

“They say that they want to help you escape the Balance Trinity. In fact, they gave me these.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out a sheaf of documents, looking around idly to ensure that no one could see the contents. She slid them over to Casey and Dennis, who read them quickly.

Casey’s jaw dropped as she saw what they’d been given. A second chance, perhaps. A better life.

“And ten grand,” Joseph added in a low voice. “But we thought we shouldn’t splash that all over the table.”

“No fricking way,” Casey breathed, unintentionally echoing Hedwig’s thought. “In cash?”

Joseph got her attention. “We know this is a lot to take in, but you need to know that we don’t have any idea who these people are. They could be some of Prescott’s people, for all we know. But it’s up to you.”

Dennis was examining the passport in closer detail, and Casey couldn’t get a read on whether he approved of this or was suspicious of the gift. She’d almost forgotten just how uptight he was around other people, when it wasn’t just the two of them.

“Thank you,” he said unexpectedly. “Whether or not the ‘Futurists’ are truly helping us, you didn’t have to take this risk to get them here.”

Mrs Price laid her hand over his, and he flinched but didn’t pull away. “We’re the good guys, honey. Of course we had to help you.”

Dennis quietly packed up the documents and slid them to Casey, who put them in her messenger bag.

“Is there anything else?” Dennis asked.

“One more thing. We should come up with a way to contact each other in an emergency. Ray and I have set up an encrypted messenger. Just go to this site, and I’ll be told if you write anything. And if you have the chance to check it, once in a while, I might write to you.”

Casey thanked him and took the little business-card sized piece of paper with a single web address.

“We should go,” Dennis murmured to Casey, who reluctantly nodded.

Joseph smiled a little. “It seems strange, just letting you go again. But thanks for meeting us.”

“Stay safe, you two,” Casey said warmly.

“Try not to cause too much trouble,” Mrs Price added.

Joseph snorted. It wasn’t likely.

They all shook hands, even Dennis, who had barely spoken the entire time. He hesitated before taking Mrs Price’s hand, but gently squeezed it all the same.

Joseph watched them leave, wondering if he’d ever see them again.

The drive back to Philadelphia seemed longer than the trip to Liberty. He wasn’t so occupied by his thoughts, or the need to be on the lookout.

Mrs Price agreed to come and visit David for the debrief, so they drove straight to Joseph’s home.

As he went to turn into his street, his stomach dropped. There was a Philadelphia Police squad car parked in the driveway.

Esther reached out to hold his hand, and said a silent prayer as the blue and red lights flashed.

*

*

*

Casey and Dennis gave their new identities their first test that very day. They checked into two nearby motels somewhere in Ohio (Casey had long since given up remembering the townships they’d passed through) and waited a few blocks away to see if either door would be kicked in by a Trinity hit squad, once the ID had been run through the system.

Once the sun went down, and there was no sign of the Trinity, they chose the least seedy motel to actually spend the night.

Casey was tired and aching from the long trip, and staying cooped up inside the car for even longer hadn’t helped matters.

Once they were inside, and as safe as they could make themselves, their thoughts turned to the strange news they’d been given by Joseph and Mrs Price.

“I’m not sure we should align ourselves with these Futurists,” Dennis said.

“But if there’s more we can do for other gifted people, don’t we have a responsibility to do it?” Casey countered.

“Do you really want to put a target on your back again? We want to disappear, not provoke Sadie and her people.”

“But they’re like you, Dennis! If we could help someone, and not put ourselves in too much danger…”

“Any danger is too much,” he snapped. “I won’t lose you again!”

Her anger ebbed at the raw desperation in his final shout.

“Fuck, Casey… don’t you know what it did to me?” he hissed, his fists clenching and releasing compulsively.

“Oh,” she exhaled, completely floored by the wave of emotions crashing over her from his admission. _I get it. It was so obvious, Barry knew all along. He loves me._

She surged forward and pushed him against the wall, taking him completely by surprise. She tried to pour all of her apologies into the heated kiss, and he responded just as aggressively.

His eyes flashed with an intensity that made her stomach drop. He took charge, directing her lips with his own, pulled her by the waist with a relentless strength.

“Dennis,” she moaned, trying to catch her breath.

He leaned his forehead against hers, never letting go, and his eyes squeezed shut. She knew that he was about to shut down again, let his fear and desperation ebb back into the back of his mind. But she didn’t want him to cage his emotions like that anymore. And she certainly knew that she could handle whatever he had to throw at her. In fact, she was fascinated by the thought of being at Dennis’ mercy. It would be freeing, not having to take any initiative, not needing to doubt his intentions.

“Dennis, it’s okay. I need this, I need… you to lose control,” she said finally.

He groaned, already on the edge of doing just that, but knowing that he wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t ask permission. “Are you sure?”

She touched his cheek, and his eyes flickered open to meet hers, her pupils completely blown with desire. “Completely.”

Almost before she’d finished speaking he pushed her away, and she almost tripped as she fell back onto the bed with a gasp.

She pulled herself up on her elbows, her chest already heaving as she tried to catch her breath, waiting for his next move.

He was already hard just looking at Casey laying there, waiting for him, so undone, so ready to be taken. He adjusted himself in his pants, and her eyes followed his movement.

“Sit up,” he ordered, and she sat on the edge of the bed as he stepped forward and loomed over her.

He gripped her chin and forced her to look up, feeling her swallow hard in response, and he involuntarily wondered what her lips would look like wrapped around him.

“Unzip it.”

She reached forward with shaking hands to touch him through the fabric.

He hissed in warning, and she pulled back like she was burned, instead reaching for his belt and slowly unbuckling it. The leather hisses as she pulled it through the belt loops, and she placed it beside her before unbuttoning his pants. Every touch was so light, so teasing, and he felt himself twitching with every movement.

She unzipped his fly agonizingly slowly, and he inhaled sharply as the cool air hit the dampness on his underwear.

She looked up to meet his heated gaze, questions in her eyes, and he nodded.

Finally his cock was free of its confinement, and it lay heavily in her small hands.

He took a moment to steady himself before continuing. “Your mouth.”

She licked her lips slowly before leaning forward.

The thought of his secret proclivities crossed his mind, almost an automatic reminder of why he was unworthy to receive this gift, but he shoved it away with all of his strength. If this was sinful, he didn’t want to be saved. He needed to be in this moment, with Casey. Nothing else mattered.

She took his tip in her mouth, and he was beyond any rational thought. He was so overly sensitive, but as she spread her lips and took him in, curiously flicking her tongue against his slit and around his foreskin, he knew that he needed more.

He reached down to lovingly stroke her face, feeling his own cock stretching her cheek, before pressing his hands against the back of her head to insist that she take him deeper.

She started breathing rapidly through her nose, the little sounds becoming vocalizations as she started bobbing her head, taking him deeper each time.

His own breathing ragged, he clenched her hair in his fists and drove her closer, again and again, feeling her saliva coating his length when she withdrew and the cool air hit his skin.

He looked down at her, at the tears starting to spring up in her eyes as he drove further into his throat, and knew that he wouldn’t last long if she continued sucking him. As tempting as it was to finish just like this, coming down her throat and claiming it, he knew that there was so much more he wanted.

“Casey, enough,” he panted, and she withdrew, gasping and licking at her lips as she recovered. He stroked her face again, holding the back of her neck to pull her up to meet him. She came willingly, standing on uncertain legs before him, and he renewed their heated kisses with vigor.

She returned them just as enthusiastically, and if her whimpers and the way she clenched her thighs were any indication, she was just as aroused.

He took pity on her, fumbling at her jeans and stripping them down to her knees along with her underwear. She jerked and gasped as his hand went straight to her throbbing sex, and he pumped his fingers into her without so much as a stroke of her outer flesh.

Her head slumped forward into the crook of his neck as he ruthlessly stroked her with his calloused fingers, and her knees buckled.

Dennis pulled out so he could guide her back onto the covers, pulling her jeans down the rest of the way to throw them onto the end of the bed next to his belt and his own pants.

She lay back against the pillow, watching him for his next move, and he was soon on top of her. She opened her mouth to ask something, but he lay his hand gently over her lips, not gagging her, but sending a message.

Her eyes widened as she realized that his fingers were still coated in her own juices.

“Is this what I do to you?” he asked, almost snarling. “Is this for me?”

She nodded, and her wide brown eyes followed his as he withdrew his hand. He tore off their shirts, unhurriedly taking in her marred skin and the sheen of sweat already across her chest, her flush spreading down her chest like the creep of a snow melt.

He didn’t know how long they lay there, with Casey silently begging for a return to their lovemaking, and Dennis just watching her breathing slow and her composure return.

He almost surprised himself when he finally whispered, “Turn over.”

Surprise flashed across her face, even as she moved to do as she was told, her head pillowed on her arms as she settled on her stomach, somewhat uncertain of what he wanted.

He ran his hands from her neck to her thighs, marveling at her warmth and the smooth globes of her ass.

When his fingers dipped between her legs, brushing over her labia, she canted her hips without asking. Just the image of her, back arched and ass in the air for him, was enough to make him snap.

He knelt behind her and took himself in hand, and with a few strokes across her wet folds, finally sheathed himself inside of her.

As relished in the delicious friction of this different angle, he felt her tightening her walls around him.

He cursed and started to move, unable to start slowly, and she cried out at the sudden punishing pace, but he just gripped at her waist and slammed her back into his thrusts. She gripped the mussed sheets in her hands, and her hair was soon a mess spread over the pillow, tangled and sweaty.

As she started to climax, Casey tried to sit up and look behind her, but he pushed her down between her shoulder blades, keeping her pinned; she whimpered at the restriction, but he didn’t release her.

“You’re mine,” he growled. “You’ll stay here until I say so, do you understand?”

She nodded into the pillow, panting to catch her breath as he stilled for only a moment before taking up his rhythm again.

Casey was soon on the edge again, and this time, he was ready to come with her; he grunted and thrust up to the hilt as he spilled inside of her, and  she sobbed in relief as her own climax finally released the tension she’d been feeling for so long.

He took his hand off her spine, stroking down and petting at her, as he withdrew and let her shuddering legs finally lay flat. He draped his weight over her for just a moment before shifting to lay beside her.

Dennis wanted to say something, not quite an apology, but an explanation or something to alleviate the sense that he’d been too rough with her, with his precious Casey, but she just smiled.

Relief crashed over him, almost as potent as his orgasm, and he pulled her close to doze together. He brushed some of the knots out of her hair as she fell asleep against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second to last chapter, guys. I'm shooketh.  
> And I'm sorry that there aren't many other alters coming out at the moment, it's pretty Dennis-centric for some fairly obvious reasons.  
> As always, I want to hear your thoughts! <3


	23. Mansion by the Sea

David told Joseph to be careful as he prepared to go meet Kevin Crumb and Casey Cooke, and once again felt resentment that the damn tracking anklet was keeping him behind. Hopefully it wouldn’t be forever, but the thought of sending Joseph to meet with the Horde again was weighing on his mind. Not to mention the Trinity could be at their heels in moments.

It was a quiet day in the shop, so there was very little to distract him from his musings. David set about tinkering with a returned alarm that was making a rather pathetic squeaking noise rather than a screech. He was so focused that he would have missed the visitor, if not for the little bell above the door.

He froze when he saw who it was, but forced himself to be pleasant. “Ms Prescott, what a surprise. I hope the search is going well?”

She was in a pale green coat this time, offset by burgundy lips. He noted the long leather driving gloves, and wondered if she’d heard about his ability to catch a glimpse of someone’s wrongdoings. He and Joseph had done some experimentation on the scope of his ‘visions’, although it was far from an exact science. It had worked through clothing before, but never as well as direct contact.

She smiled, thin-lipped but polite. “About as well as can be expected, Mr Dunn. But I’m afraid I’m here on some official business.”

Three uniformed police officers entered behind her, each one more nervous than the last to be standing in front of the Overseer.

“What’s this all about?” David said cautiously, putting down his tools. He kept his hands in plain sight, just in case, but itched to reach for his phone.

“I’m here to facilitate your arrest, in the hopes that you will come quietly.”

“My arrest?”

Sadie directed the lead officer forward with a sharp motion. He cleared his throat and said, “David Dunn, you’re under arrest for the murders of Dr Eleanor Staple and Ms Casey Cooke. You do not have to—”

David resisted the urge to snort as he interrupted his Miranda rights reading. “I thought the news said that the Beast did that.”

“Apparently forensic evidence suggests otherwise. You would have also known how to replicate the Beast’s MO, would you not? He tried it on you. And you are also known for your… remarkable strength.”

David frowned, and nodded at the police officer to continue reading his rights.

Once he was done, David held out his arms to receive the handcuffs. He flexed, but didn’t call upon his strength to get out of them. The three officers kept their distance, but Sadie was unaffected by his display.

“Ms Prescott, can you make sure the shop is locked up? The keys are in my jacket pocket.”

She looked at the police officer, who nodded his permission.

She stepped forward to retrieve the large jangling set of keys, and as he made sure that his upper arm would brush against hers, he hoped that it would be enough.

_Flash._

_A room full of important people sipping wine, not unlike in Dr Staple’s memory. Glasses raised to their new captain, Sadie Prescott._

_Pressing the barrel of a pistol against a young Indian woman’s forehead as she begged for her life._

_Watching Casey struggle in her cell on the monitors, planning her demise._

_A mansion by the sea, completely engulfed by flames as Sadie stood in the shallows with another girl._

_Dr Staple’s pale corpse, sealed away in a morgue without a scratch on her._

He wrenched back to reality, and only a few moments had passed.

His head still swimming with the myriad of visions, he managed to address his captors. “Officers, you should keep an eye on the keys. If you have a search warrant to come back again, it’ll be much easier than breaking in. I tend to have good locks on my doors.”

Sadie smiled. “So do prisons, Mr Dunn. I’m sure you’ll feel right at home.”

She smirked as David was folded into the back of a Police van, his defeat very plain to see. Either he went along willingly, and was placed in a prison far worse than Raven Hill, or he fought back and proved he was a danger to others.

She had also used her connections to ensure that the local jail wasn’t prepared to take on ‘the Overseer’. Remanded in custody, after questioning by the local PD, he would have to be taken to the local prison.

And he wouldn’t be alone there. Sadie had made sure of that.

*

*

*

_Earlier that week_

Sadie Prescott waltzed into the grey room like she didn't have a care in the world, peeling off her gloves and stowing them in her handbag. She knew that there were no cameras or recording equipment inside, and as per her request, only one man on the other side of the high plastic barrier.

She sat on the hard metal chair and picked up the phone, trying not to think about the kinds of people who used it every day. At least it smelled like some kind of cleaning fluid.

After a moment, the man in orange also sat and picked up the matching handset. He looked blankly at his visitor, so she began the conversation.

“I do apologize for waking you, Mr Cooke. But I have a proposal for you that I think will be of interest.”

He looked exceedingly puzzled to see her, and Sadie knew that he'd been hustled out of his cell in the middle of the night to set up this meeting. He probably thought the guards were going to beat him up; goodness knows everyone in prison hates a pedophile.

John Cooke leaned forward, and Sadie could see the salt and pepper starting to show in his scraggly beard.

“Are you a lawyer or something?” he grunted.

“No, Mr Cooke. I have some information regarding your niece that I believe you will find quite troubling.”

He showed interest for the first time, his eyes burning as he fixed his gaze on her.

Sadie hit her triumph at his eager response. Everything would be falling into place.

He would suit her purposes quite well.

*

*

*

_Many states and a few months later_

Casey hissed in frustration as she scrubbed at her hands, unable to get the red stain out of her skin.

  
"Out, out, damn spot," she giggled, remembering Orwell's attempt to get her involved in Shakespeare.

Thankfully she was having trouble with paint, and not blood. 

She'd spent an exhausting but satisfying day with twelve kids under the age of ten, all a part of her duties at Forest Lodge.

The Lodge had become their sanctuary, a home away from home. Forest Lodge was founded in the 60s on a cooperative spirit and a lot of hard labor, as an escape from the everyday and the increasingly commercialized world. Flashing forward to present day, it had evolved into a holiday park for city folks who wanted a tree change, for as little as a weekend and as long as a few months. The acres of forest bordered a beautiful lake, where the kids could swim and canoe while the adults pretended to fish, but more often slept on the sand. There was a main building with plenty of rooms and a collection of rustic cabins dotted through the woods, where the staff and longer-term guests would stay.

Dennis and Casey had discovered the Lodge advertising for seasonal all-purpose workers in a newspaper advertisement when they were travelling somewhere near Boulder, Colorado. No experience required, any skills welcome, team spirit a necessity. They turned up after one phone call with the owner requesting a place to stay in return for work. The Forest Lodge ethos on hiring people was informal, although they did do the required background checks for working in hospitality and childcare.

Dennis was wary initially. He wasn't exactly the hippie type, and a lot of the staff here were keen huggers. Casey had to smooth over more than one awkward social misunderstanding.

But he soon found an equilibrium, as did Casey. Dennis was charged with some of the more mechanical and technical repairs (not everything could be made of wood to compliment the rustic charm, he grumbled) and Casey started in the kitchen before moving to the kids program when one of the old guard retired. She loved exploring the woods and the lake with them, being adventurous and looking for animals or Bigfoot. On rainy days they would do craft, watch movies, read, or play dress up. She soon had her favorites, but all of the kids endeared themselves to her in their own ways, as trying as they could be sometimes.

Her hands were finally as clean as she could manage them, so she dried them off and set to making dinner. While they were welcome to eat in the main hall with the other staff, Dennis had been working late on a broken radiator, so she'd set aside some ingredients to fix up for them later.

She smiled, thinking of how he grumbled whenever a staff member came to him with these little problems, but he always did each task with care and grace. He liked being useful. Under his watch, the hot water system had never been so efficient, nor the phone lines so reliable. The staff sang his praises.

It had only taken one bad boat trip, and seeing Casey drenched in mud emerging from the lake like a swamp thing, for him to make his improvements to the fishing dinghy.

Casey loved that memory. He'd been so worried once he’d heard that they’d been capsized, basically dragging her back to the cabin to scrub off the ‘parasite-riddled water’ and put dressings on some of the scrapes, before joining her in the shower for some truly mind-blowing sex. 

The reactions to their partnership had been mixed. Their fake IDs put them at a slightly closer age, but the fact remained that “Kara” was quite a bit younger than “Dennis”. Some people pulled Casey aside and asked if she was okay, but she reiterated that she was very happy with Dennis, and not at all coerced. Once they'd seen them interacting, the fears seemed to subside. It was obvious that they shared the power in their relationship.

But all of this was just a distraction. Their real life, their shared life, was in the space between their lips. The brush of a finger against bare skin. Waking each other up with a whispered greeting of affection. Worship of the best, and the worst, of each other.

It wasn't always easy. In the space of their own cabin, all of the alters could be seen; outside, they were trapped by their cover story. Dennis had a hard time keeping the Light at times, and often Barry was deputized to do certain jobs. Casey would let Hedwig run loose on their days off, deep in the forest, and try not to feel a pang of regret that he couldn't play with the other kids at camp.

It wasn't perfect, but it was theirs. When they lay beside each other, listening to the patter of rain on the slate roof of their cabin, it was enough. They would never truly believe that there was no wolf at the door, but for now, they could pretend.

*

*

*

END OF PART ONE

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A SEQUEL IS IN THE WORKS!
> 
> Get ready for more Casey/Dennis action, David Dunn and John Cooke’s zany adventures in prison, Sadie Prescott’s mysterious past, Dr Whittington’s comeuppance, and did I mention more Casey/Dennis action?
> 
> Be sure to subscribe to the story to be told when Part Two is coming, and thank you all so much for your kindness and support. Winter became something so much bigger than I anticipated, and I can't wait to share more from this world.
> 
> xoxo
> 
> Rhapsody


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